Days of Night
by Carly Cisco
Summary: Santana and Brittany set in New York. Fluff and angst. And whatevers.
1. Chapter 1

Edward Carlisle Pierce set the last trunk he brought up to Brittany's room. He looked at his only daughter, who was setting up frames of photographs on her bedside table.

"Hi, Dad!" Brittany Susan Pierce looked up smiling at him. He gave back the wide smile his daughter had given him.

"Are you comfortable, Brittany?"

"Yeah, Dad. Thanks a lot, for being here."

"You're welcome, kiddo. When is Quinn arriving?"

"Later, tonight?" Brittany carefully set the photograph down on her bedside table. It was a picture of her and a blonde boy.

"Sam sure do looks happy there," Edward smiled.

"Yeah, I miss him already," Brittany smiled sadly. Even though Sam had been her ex-boyfriend, there was still something that had caused her to care for the boy.

"I wonder if he's alright at this moment," Brittany sadly looked away.

"He'll be fine, Britt. He's a good soldier, and Iraq was never that bad," Edward said.

"Yeah, right Dad. I shouldn't think of the worst for him," Brittany smiled sadly at Edward. "I just hope he's fine," she said with a smile.

"I know," Edward hugged his daughter. "I have to go now," he said, almost regretfully.

"Okay, Dad. Good bye," Brittany can't help it but let a few tears run down her cheek. "I will miss you," she hugged her father.

"Me too. I love you," Edward said, holding on to the blonde girl. After a few moments, he pulled himself away and straightened his tie. He slowly walked towards the door.

"Good bye, Britt."

"Bye, Daddy. Don't overwork yourself."

Brittany was left alone in the room and continued on setting up the photographs. She looked at her photograph with Kurt and Blaine.

They were the best people in the world, although she never had been that close to Kurt, but she had been so close to Blaine that he seemed to be her brother. They were also one of the first people to have known that she gets attracted to girls. And they had been so accepting about the issue. Brittany had hardly felt a change or shift in the school's treatment after she told the whole school and practically everyone else that she was indeed gay.

She set up the other photograph, Mike, Tina, Mercedes and her. They were her friends in Glee Club. On the background was Mr. Schue, her Glee Club adviser. It seemed to be so many years ago, when in fact, it was just a year or so.

Then there was Rachel, and her. Their photograph was taken when they were kindergarteners, along with Quinn. Rachel was smiling toothily, with a missing incisor. Brittany chuckled at the view.

Yes, it was the three of them, all along. They were one of those people who are luckily situated on the top of the social chart, to whom she was also a part.

Well, who would never think that? She was the head cheerleader at Cheerios, a part of the successful Glee Club, she had good class standing, and she was Senior Class President. She dated Sam Evans, the most popular boy in school; she was in the upper middle class family in Lima.

Her father was the one of the best lawyers in Ohio, and her mother was the best cardiac surgeon in Ohio. With her status in life and her looks, clearly, Brittany Pierce was made for the topmost seat on the social chart.

Suddenly, there was a knock and she stood up to get the door. She instantly knew who it is, even before opening it.

It was Quinn. She had a bag in her hand and a duffel bag across her shoulders.

"Hi," Brittany smiled. She looked pitifully at the hazel-eyed woman.

"Hi," Quinn's chest heaved up and down from carrying her things. "Help me carry my stuff?"

"Fine," Brittany clicked her tongue. Quinn had been her longest-standing best friends, and she had been like a sister to Brittany. She quickly took the duffel bag from her shoulders as Quinn went back to her car and took out a trunk.

After they have brought everything up, Quinn took a shower and Brittany tried to dress herself. She had decided to go out to Battery Park that night.

Quinn stood by her door. "Wait for me, okay? I don't want to be left around here, alone."

Brittany smiled. "Okay, Quinn. Let's have fun before the whole semester starts."

Brittany walked across Battery Park that night. The cold air was kissing her face. Quinn, her roommate was trailing beside her. Quinn was busily talking to her about fashion but Brittany just pretended that she was listening.

Sometimes, Quinn could be so annoying.

"So, Quinn…where do you want to eat tonight?" she asked, and looked at the hazel-eyed blonde.

"I don't know. You decide," Quinn quipped.

"I was dying to taste those camel humps Tina had told me about," Brittany cupped her chin.

"Duhh, let's just get some pizza, please? I am allergic to camels," Quinn rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed by Brittany's adventurous side.

"Please? Let's try it? I know you're not allergic to camels," Brittany pleaded. They were new to New York, and they wanted to have fun as much as possible within the last week of summer vacation, before college could start.

"Look, we don't even know if you're allergic to camels or what!" Quinn belted out.

"How would we know if we don't try?" Brittany replied in a matter-of-factly tone.

"Well, fine!" Quinn raised her hand in exasperation.

_God why can't this girl grow up?_

Brittany skipped past Quinn and walked towards the kiosk that sold exotic foods. She quickly bought two bags of camel humps and handed one to Quinn. When she handed the bag, she caught sight of someone sitting on a bench just behind Quinn. It was a girl, to be exact.

She wasn't pretty. Striking was the exact word for her. Black flowing hair, dark and raven-like, she had plump red lips, beautifully curved brows, perfect nose bridge, glamorous tan skin, from toe to head, Brittany could tell that she's a piece, and from her distance, she could see that she had dark-brown obsidian-like eyes.

And those eyes were intently staring at her.

They seem to supress something. It was like those eyes were trying to stop something form showing, or stop from crying. Not to mention the tensed shape of her shoulders and the annoying tight clench of her fists. It must have been so tight, because her knuckles had turned white. And there was that look in her face. It was a look that was something so familiar, yet somehow fearful and strange to the blue-eyed blonde. Brittany looked away, because she felt so uncomfortable being stared at that way.

It was like those brown eyes had been straining so much. Yet they had a mysterious look.

"Hey? Earth to Pierce?" Quinn snapped her fingers in front of Brittany.

"Uhh…sorry, what?" Brittany snapped back to reality.

"What are you staring at?" Quinn looked behind her.

And to Brittany's surprise, the raven-haired girl wasn't there anymore.

_How could she be that fast and quick to disappear? Maybe her hunger had just really got into her head._

"Britt? You okay? What are you staring at?" Quinn worriedly asked.

Brittany blinked her eyes, once…twice, the girl wasn't there. She looked up at Quinn. "Umm…nothing, really."

Brittany was arching her neck to look for the raven-haired girl. But she was gone like a wisp of air in a summer day.

"I don't know, but this really feels weird, so maybe we should just go home, okay?" Quinn wailed.

"Yeah, maybe we should. I really feel funny," Brittany nodded and looked out to the dark tentatively, as if wishing that the girl would emerge from the clump of bushes.

"Hey Britts!" Quinn impatiently called out. "Come on!"

Quinn stared at her best friend. She wondered what could have been off about Brittany that night.

"You okay?" Quinn asked the blue-eyed blonde once again.

"Yeah," Brittany stared at the bench where the brunette once sat and gave it a final look.

"Let's go, Quinn."

They both made their way back to their apartment. Quinn was looking at Brittany quietly.

_What could have happened to this girl and she was acting like this?_

"Britt, are you sure you're okay?" Quinn put a hand on Brittany's right arm.

Brittany looked up to Quinn. "Yeah."

_She's very far from being okay._

Brittany laid on her bed that night, thinking about the girl she had seen on the park. She recalled how tensed she became that even the air around seemed to be tensed, too. The brunette seemed to have that effect, as if they have known each other long ago.

She twisted and turned on her bed, but sleep never really came. She looked out to the city, not knowing what she would do. She could hear Quinn's snore from the next room, making her feel more alone.

_The brunette seemed to have a place in her heart. It was as if the brunette had just opened a secret door that Brittany hadn't known to have existed and resided there._


	2. Chapter 2

Santana paced across the carpets that dug deep into her ankles. She looked at herself that had reflected on the glass windows. Her face was divided by a line of luminance as the light from the nearby nightlight landed on her face's left side. It seemed like years ago, and she could not recognize the Santana that she had known, well, it wasn't the lonely, vicious, indifferent Santana.

She can't take her mind off of the blonde she had met in Battery Park earlier. They did not talk, it was like, she was the only one who got to know the blonde. However, she had no idea why she can't read the blonde…why she can't figure her out.

When she had known that she can basically read everybody's personality and figure them out, it was strange to her at first. But she had been used to it. Yes, she can read people's personalities, except for the blonde. She had wondered what her name is, and there was an urge inside her, the dark part of her that she should run out there into the city to venture and find her.

_It was as if the blonde was someone significant for her._

Santana looked around her messy living room. She had been on the rocks lately, her spasms and attacks had been very frequent, now that her mother had gone and gave up. Sometimes, she will just wake up in the middle of the night, feeling as if she had to go out there, and just vent it all out to someone random.

She had been there, in the private hospital where her mother had been confined and her heart instantly bled out for her the moment she had walked into the door and saw her helpless mother and read her mind.

_I must be strong for Santana…_

Those were the last words her mother had, and they were left unspoken.

Santana wiped the tears from her eyes and cursed the air. Sometimes, she considered that in-depth telepathy as a curse. Her head started to ache again as she felt her consciousness being dragged back into the deep abyss. Every single time she thinks about her mother, it was always like this.

_It was happening again._

"Mom…" her soft whimper pierced through the air, her voice cracking.

"Santana…" it was as if Carmen Lopez's voice was from a dream.

Santana looked at the figure standing beside her reflection. "Santana…remember who you are…"

Her mind was rocking back and forth as she tried to hold on to her sanity. All she felt was the soft carpet brushing her face. She had passed out.

Santana woke up a little while later, her sad eyes were now transformed into fiery, dead-glazed pupils that seemed to be just as nonchalant about everything. She had, in utter honesty had forgotten and lost the track of time.

She went out the back window and out into an emergency fire exit. A few more steps took her farther up, and out into the rooftop. She sat on the edge of the building, the cold wind whipping her face furiously.

_The city made a good view from here._ Santana thought. Then, the girl with blue eyes came back into her mind. Santana drew in a slow, deep breath.

That blonde made her feel…things. She can't understand it, but the blue-eyed girl had a strange effect on her. It was like she can be gentler, that she can actually control the darkness inside her.

If Santana thinks about her, she feels at peace. It's like Santana had known the blonde for so long and she had been in her heart for far too long. It was as if they had met years ago and if ever Santana could never see her again she would stay dreaming about the blonde. Even if it would have to be for the rest of forever.

She inhaled the cool, crisp night air as she looked beyond the city lights. If only she could see that blonde again, she would do everything to know her.

Santana chuckled to herself in such sarcasm. She clicked her tongue and strutted back to her apartment, satisfied and calmed and composed. She travelled to the only separated room in her apartment, the bathroom and took a shower.

She went out of the shower some fifteen minutes or so after it, and went up to the brown staircase and flipped over her bed.

_The blonde was still in her mind._

She smiled half-heartedly and stared up on her ceiling. After a long, hard stare, she started to feel drowsy and her eyes felt heavy. It's time to sleep.

Sunlight kissed Santana's face the day afterwards. She rose up from her bed, and made her way to the bathroom and gargled her mouth. The whole morning had been the usual routine, and she went out of her apartment after a few minutes. She planned on grabbing breakfast.

Her start-off meal consisted of French bagels and a black cup of espresso. She was leaning over her table, looking out into the traffic and figuring out how or who the blonde girl was.

Suddenly there was a clutter and a shuffle of stools and a voice pervaded over the air. "Quinn, this one, this one!"

The voice seemed to tear Santana's ears and she squirmed at the high-pitched voice.

"Rachel, shut it!" another voice called.

"Come on, both of you," a soft, gentle voice said out, making Santana turn towards the direction.

"I'll have the muffins!" a toddler-sized girl shrieked out. Her voice was the piercing one.

"Yeah fine, I'll have the muffin just the same," the hazel-eyed blonde mumbled and looked up to the tall, lanky blonde that haunted Santana's sleep and consciousness. "What about you, Britt? What would you like?"

"I'll have some French bagels, Quinn," the blue-eyed blonde smiled at the girl named Quinn. "And don't forget my tea," she said out loud and finally took a seat on a table just behind Santana.

"So, tell me, how does you room feel like?" Brittany smiled through the glass as Santana looked at her reflection on the glass door.

She adored the way the blonde moves her lips, her tongue, her everything…and she just wondered how it would feel to hold her. Santana had to sigh as she looked at the watch on her wrist.

_She had to leave._

So she stood up and gave the beauty behind her one final look and walked out of the place. But as she started to leave off, she heard the hobbit-sized girl yap at Brittany.

"So does your place in Fifth, does…does it fit you right?"

"Yeah, it's like totally a bomb," she heard the angelic voice again.

"Wow, nice…" Rachel hummed in approval as Quinn arrived with their food.

_So she lives downtown. Score._

Santana was eavesdropping in the conversation and she almost choked on the coffee she had on her left hand. Realization sunk into her, that she is entertaining the thoughts that had been swimming in her mind.

Of course, she shouldn't let herself enjoy the happy thoughts caused by someone else, other than her own self.

But she couldn't help it.

Santana left the room with a smirk plastered on her face.


	3. Chapter 3

Santana walked up the array of groceries and looked among the boxes of cereals. A shadow hovered over her, causing her to look up and the sight before her made her heart thump crazily in her chest.

It was Brittany.

"Hi," the blonde smiled at her gawking.

Santana, on the other hand, feeling that she was utterly and openly staring at the girl beside her, epically failed in clearing her throat.

"Look, umm…hi…" she scratched her head, hoping that she could mentally kick herself for being such a wimp. She felt the same burning sensation rise up from her neck to her face. She was thinking her face was as red as a tomato.

Suddenly, Quinn materialized behind Brittany, and suddenly, Santana felt she had spaced out from where she stood. So, she grabbed the nearest box of cereal she could ever lay her hands on and wheeled away with her cart, leaving the two women behind.

She can't bear to be with Brittany for so long.

As she paid for her groceries, Brittany was behind her.

"You can…you can go ahead of the line if you want," she said out pathetically to the blonde. She practically drawled every time Brittany is fifty feet near her.

Looking at her expectantly, she swerved to her right, giving room and letting Brittany brush by her. Santana took a deep breath, only to inhale the sweet scent of the blonde girl.

She smelled of strawberry and vanilla mixed together. She dwelled on the moment for a time, flying into the recesses of her mind and finally settling into some sort of euphoric escape.

"Umm…excuse me?" another blonde girl chirped in, although this time it was a hazel-eyed girl.

Santana could feel the strands of her hair in her back begin to stand up as the desire to punch the smaller blonde's face squarely coursed through her. And that fiery desire faded out as she heard the a melodic voice flutter through the air.

"Sorry about Quinn. She's really, kind of a ruckus," Brittany gave her a lopsided smile.

"No, it's okay…" Santana said, knowing fully well that they were holding each other's gazes. The cashier and the bagger had been finished in their task in packing and putting Brittany's groceries in paper bags so Santana figured out that it would be their time to leave.

"So, well…goodbye, we'll be going now. See you around?" Brittany raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"Santana," she said her name with a squeak.

"Okay," Brittany breathed hard. "I'm Brittany by the way. Goodbye," and with that, Quinn and Brittany walked away from her.

_But it felt as if Santana's heart had just gone with the tall blonde…_

_It had been a couple of weeks since she talked to Brittany._ Santana thought to herself. Besides, she had been busy, working inside her apartment. Some internet gig she had known. And because of that, she rarely goes out. And if ever she caught sight of Brittany, it's probably a few yards away, not really giving the brunette a chance to talk. And it had only happened once.

She sat on the edge of her bed, reminiscing the last time she and Brittany had talked. The spasms inside her had dramatically lessened as she found herself thinking about the blonde day by day.

And she had found the blonde pretty addictive. No not the carnal description. It's just that Brittany seemed like a necessity to her. It seemed as if the blonde was someone who is essential to her living.

Knowing that she wanted to be free of the confines of her apartment, Santana snatched out her jacket and her wallet. She walked out of the room where she lives in and her heels carried to the place she loved the most.

The roof top.

From where she had perched herself, New York City glowed in Santana's eyes. She sighed and it reminded her of the peaceful times at home, and dinners.

The darkness came creeping in and Santana frantically tried to shoo them away. She started to divert her thought to the things she loved. And then a blonde-haired girl below caught her eye. Immediately, her tensed senses relaxed.

It was Brittany. And she was heading the subway.

Apparently, Santana's own mind seemed to be not agreeing with her heart tonight. She just found herself hurriedly descending the steel escape ladder.

Although she had been hurrying down the building, she wasn't really able to catch up with Brittany. Up ahead, she weaved through a crowd of Koreans and she continued on. And just like that, Santana followed her.

Some five yards away, was Brittany and from nowhere else, two teenage boys appeared. _Maybe it was a back alley,_ Santana presumed. There was a shuffle between t She two adolescents and Santana struggled to see. But because of the dark, she can't really see what the boys were actually doing. So she just followed.

She saw Brittany disappear into the gate. The boys followed, and so did Santana.

The platforms were desolate, save for a small, gothic girl that had her back plastered to the wall. She was listening to some music and she's not really paying attention to them.

Suddenly, a hand gripped Brittany, and constricted around it. She noticed the knife on her waist.

"Give him your bag or I'll cut ya!" the teen boy snarled and yelled towards Brittany.

"Look, just…just take it," Brittany shoved the bag towards the waiting guy. At the same time, she kicked the other boy's groin, and started to run. Suddenly, the gothic girl drew out a knife, a small one, and in a hair's breadth, she had dodged the fatal attack.

All she remembered was she was falling from the platform and to the ground below. And then there was a snap, like bones snapping from it's joints. And all she could see was the blurry shadows from the fall.

Clearly, someone was tearing those three kids apart.

There was a thud. Another thud. And there was more bones breaking like mere splinter. A gush…it was probably the knife.

Then there was silence.

Brittany wondered what could've happened. Could she be dead already? She wondered. But her trance was cut off by a shadow towering over her. She couldn't make out the face, but she's sure it was a woman. She was wearing what seemed to be a leather jacket, it was all she can make out of her dizzying and blurry vision.

Her bag was tossed towards her and she felt it thud just beside her head. She rolled over, and groaned from her fall. But, to her surprise, in a single blink of her eye, the shadow was gone…

She stood up and started to walk…slowly, her feet shaking. Her legs were trembling horribly, but she had managed to reach the top of the stairs and hailed a cab home.

The next morning, Brittany was having her coffee by the counter when Quinn walked in, holding a paper bag in her right hand and a rolled newspaper in her left. She carefully set the bag on the counter and the newspaper on the tile counter.

Brittany's throat ran dry as she ran her eyes through the headline: THREE JUVENILES FOUND DEAD AT SUBWAY.

Underneath the bold letters was a photograph of the two guys, and the gothic girl, sprawled on the subway's platform…bloody and dead.

The lump on her throat was nothing compared to the pale colour of her face that even Quinn had noticed it.

"Hey, B…are you alright?" Quinn looked at her quizzically. "Are you sick or hung-over?"

Brittany could not form the words in her mouth so she just shook her head and she finally realized it. Her eyes shot from the headline to the caption of the photo.

"…what seemed to be a love triangle resulted into a bloody murder…"

_She had been part of a murder._

In Santana's apartment, she was also staring blankly into the TV. The headlines were about three teenagers brutally murdered in the subway.

"It seems that the teenagers were in a fight amongst themselves, which ended up into a massacre…" the reporter babbled in the tube.

Santana's eyes fell to the floor as she mentally kicked herself. Guilt had washed over her and she felt the same pain again. The pain of self-hate, the hate she had for herself inside her.

_God, she had done it again._


	4. Chapter 4

Santana looked at her wrist watch and quickly stood up. Why on earth she had the guts to do it, she doesn't have any idea.

_Maybe because Brittany mattered to her._

_No she did not._

_Yes, she did._

_No. She can't have those feelings again._

Yes. If she hadn't cared about her, she wouldn't have dashed out to kill those muggers who were trying to knock her off. And for what?

_A purse. She did care about Brittany._

She worked her way to the kitchen, and flung the fridge door open. She might as well get some grub before her tummy goes into a ruckus.

She walked to the nearest food stand she could find from her apartment, and munched on the chicken fingers she had bought from the food stand and watched the people run around, getting their exercise.

The sun felt good in her skin, warming her deeply, until it reached to her bones. It's been so long since she had felt the fresh air rush inside her. It was as if an invisible curtain had been lifted from her world, and now she could see things way better.

_Or it could turn worse, her small mind said out._

A little dog circled around her leg, making her feel queasy. Finally, there was someone who whistled at the dog, making Santana feel alright again.

"Oh, Mike…there's your dog. Please say hi to Tina for me, okay? See you at work," a sweet voice fluttered through the air and reached her ears. Then, her body froze completely as she was staring face to face with Brittany.

"Hi," Brittany said it, ever so awkwardly.

"Hi," she replied back, and then started to walk away from Brittany.

_God, Santana, why do you have to be such an idiot?_

"Hey, where are you going?" Brittany called after her. And it made her stop dead on her tracks. The hair on her nape stood up, making her heart thump crazily. But the dark evil force that seemed to pull her down and deeper wasn't there. It was plain nervousness.

"Hey," she said, her mouth turning dry. "How are you?"

"Hi, umm…I'm fine. I'm Brittany, again. What was your name? I didn't catch it when we were in the grocery," Brittany said it innocently and she gave Santana a loose smile.

"I'm Santana," she drawled on, making sure her voice had been heard out.

"Mhhhm…coffee? Or what? Walk to your house?" Brittany offered with a smile. Suddenly, when Santana was about to answer her, Quinn just emanated from behind her.

"Oh, Brittany! Come on, I was waiting for you!" her voice resounded through the thick air.

"I should be going," Santana said, the defiance in her voice was audible. But, she felt thankful for Quinn anyhow, because if it wasn't for her, she would've fainted at Brittany's words. Most probably, it wouldn't happen.

She walked the length of her street and went in the building where she lived. In her fluster to get in, she did not even bother to talk to the doorman, she just passed on.

Her place wasn't big, nor small. It was comfy, and she had been doing goo in job, so it never really mattered. She walked up to the long windows and stared out into the open. She had grown into a proper woman, strong woman, even…

_She just hoped that her mother had lived long enough to see it._

Voices. Again, they were calling her. Into the dark.

She pressed her palms flat on her temples, in hopes that it would make the pain dissipate. She let out a high-pitched whine and screamed out softly.

The voices were still there. She crawled to the floor and curled up into a ball, hands clasped to head, eyes tightly shut, and forehead wincing in pain…

_Be strong…_

_Be strong…_

It was like a broken mantra that came into her trance as she fell into the dark gel-like water that seemed to envelope her very being. She can't escape. There was no way she could.

_But the voice of her mother…_

It was like a lighting beacon, showing her the way. She felt rising up, into the safety above. She felt like there was something propelling her up, upward to the reality of the above world. Into the world of the living. She closed her eyes and she started to float away.

When Santana fully opened her eyes, it was already dark. She must have slept all day.

She opened the windows and let the cool, fresh air rush inside her lungs, filling it up as she inhaled. Maybe she needs to get out. She went for the rooftop.

The city was humming from above. The sounds and sirens were not that noisy, it was just a small hum of a wasp comb, or something. Santana walked to the edges of buildings and jumped from roof to roof. She's feeling at peace, at least.

The city lights blinked and reblinked and flittered through the air as Santana watched the cars pass by below her. She was sitting on the edge of a building, just by the block's corner, her feet dangling dangerously, but she wasn't scared, at all.

Air rushed in to fill her lungs again and she had remembered the earlier conversation she had with Brittany.

"_I didn't catch your name…"_

"_Hi…"_

She often wondered where Brittany could be at this time of hour.

_Probably, sleeping._

_Or at her desk._

_Maybe dating?_

Santana instantly regretted thinking about it. She knew, she can't have Brittany. Not in any way possible, because of the plain reason that she can't be lovable. She doesn't deserve to be loved. And especially Brittany.

She doesn't deserve her.

But she felt that pang of pain eat through her as if it was an ugly maggot that resides inside her frail heart and it's gritting and gnawing its sharp teeth inside her already.

She can't bear to think about Brittany having someone else.

Cold air tapped her shoulders as she heard a low bass from across the street. She looked into a red-bricked behemoth of a building and noticed that on the rooftop was a party. Men and women, mostly her age.

She doesn't go to parties anymore. Not since she had been left alone by her mother. And her father…

_Never mind. _

Pain again, and the voices start to call her back.

Santana squirmed at the gnashing pain.

Fingers wrung and brows knitted together, she tried to think of happy thoughts. And apparently it helped. She stared into the crowd again. People milling about, holding drinks, laughing, dancing.

They're happy.

And then someone was making her way through the crowd and leaned over the edge of the building. Then looked up, straight at her.

She smiled and eyed her with deep scrutinizing sapphires. Her obsidian earth eyes met the ocean blues.

Santana's brown leather jacket fluttered and danced through the wind and there was a shock on Brittany's face. It remained for a few moments, and then she looked into same earth-brown eyes.

She was smiling at her…

_She was smiling…_


	5. Chapter 5

Central Park wasn't all that crowded that afternoon as Santana was just strolling down the pathway when someone tapped her shoulder. She was even jolted at the sight just a few feet away in her front.

Brittany was leaning over the duck pond, feeding the ducks.

She wanted to turn around and go back, yet she also wanted to walk towards Brittany. Her mind was wracking nervously at the chances of her thinking when Brittany decided for her. She was making her way towards Santana.

"Hi, Santana, right?" she said, giving the Latina a lopsided smile.

"Oh, hello, Brittany," she replied nonchalantly, making every effort possible that she would be indifferent and really not as pathetic as she actually sounded like.

"How are you? Care for a cup of coffee?" her voice was sweetly seeping to Santana's ears. It peeled off sweeter than honey. And it did not fail to make a smile ghost across the Latina's lips. In a fraction of a second, she recovered from her trance and snapped from her daze.

"Umm…coffee? Yeah, sure…"she drawled on, her throat completely running dry. It even became drier, if ever it was possible when Brittany took Santana's right arm and looped her own left arm around it.

"Umm…" she cautioned.

"What would you love? You know, we always run into each other. I think we're really meant to be friends…" Brittany's sweet voice resounded into her eardrums. It wasn't low, nor high-pitched. It was kind of, unique. It's as if it was the blonde's voice was nothing but soothing to her senses.

"I…I'm really sorry," Santana said softly.

"For what? Running into me all the time and, like…being a stalker? You'd only apologize if you are one. Oh my God, are you? Are you stalking me?" Brittany blurted out.

The look on Brittany's face was comical. It was not accusing, it was funny even. Shocked her face was, yet she was smiling. Santana's heart fluttered through the air and beyond the clouds as the blonde let out a low chuckle.

"No…no…" Santana shook off her head violently, lying epically from the tip of her tongue. "I'm not stalking you, you know. It's just that, maybe, we're just…really, you know…kind of in the same neighbourhood. It's just my routine and your routine is practically alike…like this," Santana motioned to their surroundings.

"What about in Rachel's party? Was that a part of your routine, too? Does walking on rooftops, and alone a part of your routines?"

There was silence after that. They were inside the coffee shop and they quickly sat just beside a glass window. Immediately, a teenage waitress came up to them and asked for their order.

"Put it on me," Brittany smiled. She had money to burn, and money was never a problem to her.

"Thanks," Santana smiled as she looked at the blonde. Not that she is running below the income line. In fact, her father was a businessman, so what? She just gave Brittany a chance to treat her a cup of coffee, because that would give her a reason to be able to take steps to get closer to the blonde.

"So," Brittany folded her hands on the table dramatically as soon as the waitress had gone out of their earshot. "You still did not answer my question."

"What question?" Santana snapped back to her reality, clearly caught by Brittany drooling at her. Santana tends to do that, lately. She completely spaces out when she thinks of Brittany, thinking things.

Well, a certain blonde, to be exact.

And this one isn't an exception for that. She was thinking of telling Brittany things. Things she had kept inside her for so long. Things that had been dragging her down like anchors.

"Walking on the rooftop, was that part of your routine?" Brittany asked innocently.

Santana's lips tightened. "Yeah, let's put it that way," she gave out a smile after that, making sure that Brittany could not see past that smile and ask any more silly questions.

"So tell me about yourself, Santana," Brittany smiled.

"Well, that depends on what you'd want to know," Santana said and leaned back on her chair, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Okay, first thing. Your full name?"

"Santana Maria Lopez. Yours?" Santana cocked her head sideways. "Just to be fair, y'know."

"Brittany Susan Pierce."

"Mhmm…tell me about you," Santana smiled.

"Alright, since you're not really helping this conversation at all," Brittany smiled knowingly. "I'll tell you about myself then. Anything you want to know?"

"You're studying in New York University, right?" Santana smiled loosely.

"How did you know that? Wait, you're stalking me!" Brittany giggled. "Right? You're stalking me."

"No, I'm not!" Santana's forehead crunched. "I was buying a book just near your school and I saw you at the gate with your other blonde friend and that small, girl."

Brittany looked at her quizzically, as if she was testing the other girl's answer and evaluating the earth-brown eyes. "Okaaayy…" she finally said after a few minutes.

"Okay," Santana said tentatively, and then she breathed hard. This coffee meeting couldn't be worse. "Look, I'm not stalking you."

"I'm just playing with you, you know. Well, what about you? Where do you go? Julliard? NYADA?" Brittany asked with a smile.

"I…I don't go to school…" Santana lowered her gaze onto her coffee foam. "Anymore."

Brittany remained silent after that. Her eyes were fixed on Santana, and they were clouded with doubt on why or how to put her thoughts into words. "Why?" she finally voiced it out.

Santana looked at her, again. She had seen those doubtful eyes, so many times, so many people. They're scared. And now, Brittany is scared. And so is she.

"My mom," Santana started. "She died. When I was still in med school in my freshman year, it just sucked ass, and I kind of, you know…lost it."

"I'm sorry," Brittany felt so ashamed of herself for asking such a personal question. "I'm sorry for my rudeness."

"It's alright. I mean, what about it? Like as if you and me, talking here about how goddamned the whole thing is would bring her back to life. Miracles don't work like that." Santana said with a sad yet anguished sigh.

"I'm really sorry," Brittany apologized. This conversation was turning out to be what is unexpected. She tried to do the damage control.

"I think I should go, Santana. I think I should. I'm really sorry. Enjoy…enjoy you're coffee," she hastily stood up.

"No. Stay," Santana said out, rattled and worried that she might have pushed Brittany away. So she reached out her hand to hole Brittany back.

At once, when their skin touched, Santana felt shivers run along her spine. She felt cold, yet her hand, which was holding Brittany's arm, was hot. It felt like burning. And her heart was loudly thumping in her chest and it resounded into her ears.

Apparently, Brittany sat down in front of her and looked at her. There was a silence. And she started to open her mouth.

"I'm sorry," they both said at the same time.

The both of them lowered their heads and smiled silently at their cups. It was Brittany who broke the silence. Twirling and stirring her cup, she eyed Santana.

"What do you do for a living then?" she asked.

"I work on some…internet gig. Blogs, software, sort of those stuff," Santana answered. "I don't really have anything to do, actually. What are you taking up in New York University?" she eyed Brittany who was smartly stirring her coffee cup.

"I am majoring in Dance."

"Wow. That's awesome, Brittany."

"Yeah, it is. But sometimes, it's kind of difficult. Although that rarely happens."

Conversation followed lightly. With Brittany practically talking about her dancing, New York University…among other things. She always asked Santana about computers…and she wouldn't shut up.

Santana finds it amusing.

They were making their way to Brittany's apartment and suddenly, Brittany was whipping her phone out of her pocket.

"Gove me your number. I want to be your friend."

Santana was doubtful at first. But then, her considered it. He quickly gave out her number to Brittany, and in turn, Brittany gave her number, too.

They started to part ways, with Santana not looking back or really throwing a small glimpse. Suddenly, her phone vibrated.

_Brittany: Take care. xx_

Santana wanted to ignore the blonde, but she just discovered that she can't and there is no way she could ignore it.

_Santana: Thank you. You too._

She went home that night…and she flopped on her bed.

_There were no headaches today_.


	6. Chapter 6

Santana looked out beyond the horizon that afternoon. From her point of view from her window, she could see the New York skyline its pink glow in the west. It had been a few weeks since she and Brittany had started exchanging text messages and calling each other.

Her phone that was just beside her hand gave out a low vibration. It was a text message from Brittany.

_Brittany: hi how are you?_

She had to reply, of course, she had to. Santana quickly tapped out a reply from her iPhone and quickly sent it to Brittany.

_Santana: hello, I'm fine. Thanks for asking._

There was no text message after that. So, Santana tried to ignore the feeling of loneliness inside her and tried to flip through channels of reruns and boring reality TV shows.

Suddenly her phone rang, indicating that there is a call for her. She opened it, hoping it was Brittany. And Brittany it is.

"Hi," she said. Her voice was lyrical, melodic and somewhat harmonious.

"Hello," Santana chided in, she sounded as if she had been running a mile.

"Are you okay?" she heard Brittany chuckle from the other line. "Santana?" she said as there was a few moments of silence as Santana fumbled through her messy hair.

"Ummm…yeah…yeah…umm …I'm fine," Santana drawled on as she felt her mind starting to shut down because her heart had been crazily thumping in her chest. It was so loud that she thought that Asian kid who lives next to her was pretty listening to it.

"Well, maybe I was wondering if we could meet in the park. Like really, I feel so lonely, Quinn's out with her boyfriend, so…you know, care for a cup of cappuccino, or…want to feed the ducks? Or what?" Brittany sounded so uncertain, and it made Santana's heart beat even faster.

She gulped hard. "Umm, yeah, sure, be there in like…"

"Twenty minutes? Or should I pick you up? I have a car," Brittany proposed.

"Nah, never mind. I'm just…going to walk," Santana said finally, after refusing the blonde's request.

"Oooo-kay, so, I'll meet you then, at the duck pond?" Brittany's exuberant voice said out.

"Mhmm…twenty minutes," Santana smiled, even though she can't be seen by Brittany. She just felt so comfortable with smiling when she thinks of Brittany.

Somehow, with the blonde, she actually thinks she could be normal. That she could be someone lovable, and not as a failure.

She showered in record time. It took her five minutes, to be exact.

There were a lot of people in the duck pond, many of them were couples, strolling hand in hand, smiling, and kissing each other. It made Santana squirm. She isn't used in people, especially the sweet couples.

A blonde girl's hand waved at her. It was Brittany.

"Hi," she huffed as she sat on the bench where Brittany was sitting.

"Hi, how are you?" Brittany smiled.

"I'm fine. I'm great," Santana smiled softly and raked her eyes against Brittany's frame.

"What are you looking at?" Brittany quipped, smiling inwardly to herself because she saw Santana gawking at her figure.

"Nothing, sorry," Santana lowered her head, feeling the heat rise up to her face. She felt embarrassed. It was their first date, well it wasn't a date exactly, just a date-date, or whatever…

"I really want to talk to you," Brittany started to say.

"Mhm…" Santana felt a sudden excitement seep through her. It felt odd, being the last person to feel something like it.

_It feels so addictive._

"I want to talk to you, about this person, I mean, that person is really taking my attention. There isn't a day I can't think of that certain someone."

"Mhmm," Santana hummed. Could it be possible that the someone she was talking about was actually her?

_Of course, that would be so absurd. She doesn't even know if Brittany was into girls._

"So, how did your life go, you know?" Brittany raised an eyebrow at her.

"Umm, fine," a short reply came from Santana. Instantly, her answer was met by a perfect pout along Brittany's perfect mouth.

"You don't speak too much. I think we should go to a party, or something. You know," Brittany raised a suggestive again, making Santana feel uncertain about the looks now.

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't really know," Santana chuckled as she tousled her dark, raven-coloured hair,

"You don't know? Santana, have you ever gone to parties before?" Brittany asked as if she was in disbelief. Her eyes were widely and openly staring at the brunette beside her.

"Uh, yeah…I don't really like going to parties," Santana looked away.

"WHAT?!" the look on Brittany's face was comical. Her mouth hung open, her eyes wide.

"Look, I know it's not cool, I know you'd hate me, but I don't really like you know, the crowds," Santana rolled her eyes as a couple walked in front of them.

"Aww, look at them! Aren't they sweet?" Brittany clasped her hands on her mouth, making out a ditzy face. She bumped her shoulders on Santana's own, just to get attention. She repeatedly did the thing, making Santana smile at the girl's goofiness.

"Aww, you're smiling!" Brittany smiled out widely. Her face was so beautiful when her face smiles. And it made Santana smile even more.

"It's not the couples, you know. They look gross," Santana said out after recovering from her smile. It feels like when she smiles with Brittany, the whole world melts away and t's just the both of them and there was nothing else. She can even feel the darkness die away.

"Santana, you look beautiful when you smile," Brittany smiled sweetly. In turn, she got a snort from the Latina. It was then followed by an eye-roll.

"What? Are you telling me I'm a liar?" Brittany feigned hurt.

"No, no…it's not like that. It's just…" Santana rambled on. Then she averted her eyes to the ducks, "it's just that no one had called me beautiful before…"

"Really?" Brittany said out. "Believe me, Santana. You are beautiful."

Santana just smiled. She felt light, like she could fly to the sun and back. It was a beautiful feeling, and she can't deny to herself she had enjoyed it.

"Where's your other friend, by the way?" Santana asked.

"Oh, her boyfriend was at the house…and he's staying the night…" Brittany said out, and then she started to scrunch her forehead. "Santana, I want to ask you a favour," she said, almost battling the urge to tell the Latina something.

"Okay, come on, spill it," Santana said.

"So, I was planning to give Quinn and Puck quality time, and I feel like an intruder, but sorry to say this, but can I sleep at your place tonight?" Brittany looked at Santana with puppy eyes.

"That would be fine," Santana stated out simply.

"Really?" Brittany's face split into two as she grinned.

"Yup," Santana said, before she had realized it. Jesus, this girl's the end of her.

"Really? Really, thank you!" Brittany grabbed the both of Santana's hands and bounced them on her lap. It was pretty cute to Santana.

Suddenly, there was a cold drop of water that hit Santana's nose. "Ugh," she groaned as she felt another drop hit her

"I think it's going to rain," Brittany stated.

"IT IS RAINING! Come on!" Santana yelled as she pulled up her leather jacket above her head and handed it to Brittany. "Get in here and use this so it wouldn't keep you wet!"

"What about you?" Brittany questioned.

"Nahh, never mind," Santana said, although she also went inside the jacket. To fit themselves under the heavy leather, they ran towards the roofed pathways and struggled to get into the subway.

"I'm so wet," Brittany said as they entered the train, her teeth chattering wildly.

"Here," Santana draped the dry underside of her leather jacket on Brittany's shoulders, and then wrapped her in a warm embrace.

"People share body heat to keep them warm," Brittany mumbled.

"Try to fall asleep, I'll wake you up when we get to my apartment," Santana said as she felt the blonde nuzzle closer to her, in hopes that she would find warmth in Santana.

And Santana tried to provide Brittany all the warmth she can give.


	7. Chapter 7

Santana and Brittany raced together to the Latina's apartment, laughing all the way, their skins drenched from the rain. Santana hung her jacket on a coat hanger and then went into her room. She quickly showed up again and handed Brittany a towel and a bath robe.

"Here, use this, while I look for some clothes," she mumbled as she shuffled herself on both feet. "Sorry about the space."

"No, really, your apartment is really…beautiful," Brittany smiled and mumbled a small 'thank you' to Santana. The Latina might have not heard her, because she was already making her way towards the bedroom.

Santana came back shortly, wearing grey sweatpants and a shite shirt. She looked completely clean and neat at her attire and she smiled at Brittany.

"Shower's free," she stated out calmly, and casually cocked her head towards the shower.

"Thanks, seriously," Brittany smiled, and then she walked up to the bathroom.

She looked at herself in Santana's vanity mirror. It was clean and the whole room smelled of lavender, and it relaxed Brittany's muscles instantly as she entered the room. She took off the shower and started to feel the water dribble down her body.

Santana, on the other hand was busy in the kitchen. The TV was turned on, and a cooking show was running. Her fingers kept track of what she's doing, and her mind was on the show, taking notes of all the instructions going on. Santana cooked, as she waited for the blonde to finish showering.

Brittany finished showering and she was clad in one of Santana's sweatpants and shirts.

"Here, let me help you," she smiled at Santana as she came into the kitchen.

"Thanks, umm…seriously, sorry about the, food. I really don't know how to cook," Santana felt so embarrassed.

"Sorry," Santana hung her head in shame.

"Hey, that's so sweet of you to put on an effort. I am very thankful for it, actually. Because you've made an effort, though most of it are microwavable dinners, but I did not ask for it, but thank you, Santana," Brittany threw a smile at her.

They all sat in front of dinner, which mostly contained with lasagne and a couple of salad greens.

"Nah, you're very welcome. You know, honestly, you've been my closest friend, ever, so…we're kind of good," Santana smiled too. Lately, because of Brittany, smiling had been very easy to her.

"Does that mean we're best friends now?" Brittany smiled.

They dug through dinner, which mostly consisted of some lasagne topped with melted cheese which was incorrectly made by Santana, a microwaved gourmet, and a bowl of salad greens. They also debated over popping a few bottles of beer and finally Santana had to settle for a bottle of coke.

"Do you drink that much?" Brittany asked Santana as she put the carbonated drink's bottle to her mouth.

"Not much, I mean…I'm alcohol-tolerant," Santana half-joked and half-meant it.

"Really? I wish I was just like you. I mean, I really want to be, but when I go to parties, I always go home drunk," Brittany wailed out.

"Mhmm," Santana mused out as she leaned back on her chair.

"Well, I figure out you don't really have to waste your life away here, you know," Brittany smiled sadly after staying quiet for a few moments.

"I'm used to it," Santana declared. "I mean, I love being alone."

"But, what about me?" Brittany smiled.

Santana can't help it but return the smile. "As I have said before, you were the closest I had in years."

"I feel honoured," Brittany replied.

"Ha-ha," Santana chuckled softly. "You'd like to have wine?"

"Nahh, never mind. Let me just clean this up," Brittany quickly rose up from the seat and picked up the plates and the condiments.

"No, no…let me do that," Santana stood up and grabbed the plates from Brittany's hands.

"No, let me help you, let me do that," Brittany shook her head as she gave Santana a bewildered look. "Look, you've cooked for me, it's only right that I would do the dishes," Brittany smiled.

"No. It would be totally fine if…"

"Forget it, okay? I'm doing this," Brittany made her way to the sink and ran water over the dirty dishes.

"So, tell me anything," Brittany proposed as Santana sat looking at her from the breakfast nook.

"What do you mean anything?" Santana squirmed out.

"Your family, brother, stuff…anything, hello?" Brittany shot back at Santana.

"Okay, I have and elder brother. His name is David, and he's in Tennessee right now," Santana said. "Happy now?"

Brittany gave Santana an eye-roll for good measure.

"What?" Santana quipped and swatted Brittany's arms. "It's not like I don't want to share something about me, you know."

Light conversations followed until Brittany started to yawn.

"Come on, Santana, let's go to bed," Brittany rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes.

"Okay, come here," Santana said out and led Brittany to the bedroom. "Sorry about this space, it's just that it was not cleaned a few days ago."

"That's okay," she opened Santana's room. What was inside it made her mouth fall to the floor.

Beyond was a bed, a simple one. And in front of Santana's desk were as messy as every single corner in Santana's room.

"Where are you sleeping?" Brittany looked questioningly at Santana, who was currently stashing a few blankets and pillows.

"Umm, couch. You know," Santana cocked her head.

"No, we should be sleeping together," Brittany smiled.

"No, I won't sleep either," Santana joked, and then she moved out of the room.

Clad in her PJ's Santana laid on the couch, tightly shutting her eyes and then fluttering them open and looked at the ceiling. She was pretty sure her heart just stopped beating when Brittany asked her to sleep with her, although she was pretty sure she would also refuse to the request.

She knows that if ever she would be sleeping beside Brittany, it wouldn't be sleep at all. Finally, after a few more hours of convincing herself to fall asleep, Santana finally closed her eyes.

Santana woke up the next day as she felt the sunshine kiss her face. She squirmed first, and remembered that Brittany was still in her room. She sprang to her feet and sprinted towards her room.

Unfortunately, Brittany was not there, she has already left. A little piece of paper caught Santana's attention, and it was a note.

_Thank you so much. Take care. –B._

She folded it and slipped it in her drawer. She finally felt hungry, so she decided to devour the left-overs from last night. After she had eaten, she sat in front of her computer. Time for work.

It's been days since Brittany came over. They text, but not that much, until some three or four days ago, the text messages from Brittany had stopped.

And those were the loneliest days of Santana's life.

That afternoon, Santana went out to buy herself some dinner when she came into a coffee shop. There, she found a certain blonde. She knew it was her. So, she went out for a clearer view.

She was with a blonde guy. And she looked so happy with him.

And he was holding her hand.

And he had that loving look.

Santana knew what it exactly meant. And her heart shattered into a thousand tiny little pieces.


	8. Chapter 8

Santana did not bother coming home that night, nor did she ignore the pouring rain as she sat on the bench in Central Park. It was the very bench where Brittany and she had their first coffee, where they used to feed ducks…it was pretty depressing.

Her teeth chattered as she pounded her fists on the bench, sending out splashes of water as her fists hit the wood. She had no idea how or when she had reached her apartment, and when she barged in and locked herself behind the doors, she fell on her knees and curled into a ball on the floor.

She can't help but cry.

The voices came to her as she heaved breaths to facilitate her heavy breathing. It was faint at first, then it gradually became louder and louder till Santana could feel herself standing up and succumbing into the darkness inside her.

She did not remember anything, except for the red trickle she could see on the floor. She wasn't that much aware, but she lay there, sprawling across the floor.

She woke up to Brittany's ringtone and she quickly flipped her phone open.

"Hello?" she rambled, her voice groggy with weakness and she felt her head spin and dart from left to right.

"Santana? Are you there?" her voice sounded worried and uncertain, but it still sounded so innocent to Santana's ears.

"Yeah, I am…what time is it? Why are you calling?" Santana answered. She could feel that she part angry at Brittany, but she could never learn to hate her. And even if the blonde girl had caused her pain, she still cared deeply for the girl that had been her closest friend, for what? A few weeks, two months tops.

"Nothing. It's just that you did not call me, as often as you would. Are you busy tomorrow?" Brittany's voice sounded hopeful.

"Well, not really," Santana answered. "Why?"

"I want to take us both to dinner, you know…it's been so long since you and I were talking much, besides, we have a lot to catch up with."

"Okay, Britt, I'll try squeezing it in my schedule."

_Great. She has to pretend she's fucking okay, again._

"Okay, goodnight, Tana. Love you," Santana heard a soft click, and she knew the call was ended.

She sighed wistfully into the air.

Brittany knocked on her door later that afternoon, her pout on full patrol as she sat on the couch and looked at a flustered Santana.

"Come on, let me help you," she eyed Santana who was already rushing to the sink to brush her teeth.

"Let's go," Santana heaved as she went past the blonde and took her jacket.

"We're going to meet some of my friends, so…will it be ok with you?" Brittany smiled.

"Yeah, it's going to be fine with me, come on," Santana smiled, albeit it was half-hearted. She dreaded as to what would come as a result of their get-together.

They walked a few blocks down Santana's apartment and they came into some Italian-inspired restaurant. And the moment they came into the room, a familiar toddler-sized girl waved a hand at Brittany.

"That's Rachel," Brittany smiled. "Come on, I'll introduce you to them."

Brittany and Santana weaved their way into the crowd towards the blonde's friends. She was introduced to two Asians, Mike and Tina. Then there was that hazel-eyed blonde named Quinn. And the toddler-sized girl named Rachel.

They ordered teas and coffee and some pastries and finally settled in for a comfy conversation when a fresh-face guy with incredibly huge lips came to them.

"Hi Sam," Rachel's shrill voice pierced Santana's ear.

"Hi Rach. How are you?" Sam replied and he smiled. It looked as if he could swallow the whole table when he did so.

"Fine," Rachel answered loudly. One more time and Santana would rip this troll's vocal chords.

"Oh, Santana, by the way, this is Sam Evans, he's Brittany's boyfriend," Rachel smiled at Santana.

Hearing it, Santana's fragile heart broke into a million pieces and she stared out emptily into Sam's hand, which he had extended for formality. Santana had to act fast and she grabbed Sam's hand immediately.

"I'm glad to meet you…" Sam's smile did not falter.

"Me too," Santana squeaked out softly.

With that, Sam drew out his hand and settled beside Brittany. The two blondes cuddled, and Santana eyed them with dead eyes.

Suddenly, the tall glass of iced tea sitting just in front of Sam broke and shattered into pieces. It caused Sam to jump in surprise and his face registered shock.

"Oh god," Sam groaned as he felt the liquid wet him. He stood up and wiped himself.

"Come on, let me wipe that," Brittany took a table napkin and wiped it on Sam's lap. The whole thing was a blur to Santana.

"I…I think I should go, I still have things to do, you know…" Santana made an excuse as she felt her heart start contracting due to the pain. She felt the darkness consume her again.

"I think I should go," she stated more firmly.

"No, wait Santana," Brittany chased after Santana, leaving Sam as she moved to the other table. "I thought you wanted to come here."

"No, I really forgot, I have to do some things…"

"Britt, is there any problem?" Sam was behind Brittany.

"No, it's just that Santana's leaving early," Brittany said. Santana, on the other hand was staring intently at Sam's hands.

"Sam, you're bleeding!" Brittany shrieked as she saw the blood trickle on Sam's hands. "Come on; let me help you with that."

"Brittany, I have to go!" Santana ran outside the restaurant. She felt the darkness take over her and she blindly ran to the other side of the road. It was exhausting.

It was like her heart was dragging her to the depths of earth and the dark side of her was rooting her to the surface. She felt like she was torn and her limbs were being stretched apart.

She had reached her apartment, without even knowing how or why she had reached her room. She just did. She bolted inside the room and cried.

She just balled up there and cried at the foot of her bed and cried and cried till she thought she could cry no more.

Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own, for all she felt were the sharp edges of a broken glass, torn clothes…and twisted metal.

Unable to contain herself much longer, she went out of the building and she walked to the streets. She just walked and walked without any direction, until she reached Central Park.

There were three teens, who were hanging, and an elderly lady. In a split second they started running, and stashing away the old woman's satchel. They darted to the dark woods, in hopes that they would escape, which probably, they will. But the whole thing wouldn't happen.

Santana darted to the woods and chased after them. She was incredibly faster than them, and she almost blurred into the woods as she passed by. The teens were pretty big for their age.

"Give the bag back," she stood in front of them, making sure she had blocked the light so they can't see her face. "Let it go."

"Who the hell you think you are?" one of them asked, flashing his knife. "DO YOU KNOW WHO WE ARE?"

She's gone for a split second. The guy holding his knife felt a draft of warm air into his ear. "Be careful with that pretty mouth," she said.

And he fell on his knees, with blood oozing from his back, his knife sticking out of it.

The two others saw this, and started running, but they were too late. No sooner than one of them took three steps ahead, he fell down, his arm being torn away from his body. The third one did not even sustain fifth step, he already fell.

Santana did not take the bag. She just walked away after it had happened.

After all, she's not even human…at all.

That night, instead of making her way towards her apartment, she hailed a cab to her father's house.


	9. Chapter 9

"Santana?" the old butler who tended their house on the upper side of New York said in surprise as he opened the double doors for the heiress.

"Where's Papi?" she growled as she entered the double-doors.

"He's sleeping. Should I open the guest room?" the butler said.

"Forget it, Mart. I'm sleeping in my own room," Santana swaggered across the room. Instantly, she felt her mother's presence. It hovered all over the room.

And it was no better than what it seemed in her own room.

Her room smelled of flowers and laundry soap, the kind of smell that would always remind Santana of home and her mother. Maybe coming here was not a good idea after all.

She did not sleep that night. She just sat there, utterly basking herself in the memories of her mother. It was almost four in the morning when she finally fell asleep.

And her mother came into her dream.

She was sitting on a rock and she had her mother's necklace with her.

"_Santana, be happy."_

Her mother's voice seemed so melodious, so peaceful.

"_Mami, I can't be. I lost her…I lost you…"_

Santana felt a cold wind sweep her, and her mother's face faded into the distance. She tried to grab her hand, but she found out she couldn't hold her. Eventually she had to let her go.

She woke up, with a sweaty forehead. And she had realized she was actually crying. The sun was seeping through the blinds, and she almost felt her mother's hand waking her up…

She remembered it clearly…some years back, on her first day in high school.

"_Santana, wake up honey, it's time to go or you'd be late!"_

She remembered the scent of bacon and eggs her mother would cook her for breakfast all too well, how she expertly makes her Papi's coffee. It was excruciating to her. And it felt all too painful.

"Good morning," her father's voice greeted her from the door.

"Morning, Papi," she said.

"I get that there's trouble?" Alejandro Lopez asked. He was pretty sure Santana ran into some trouble again, from his assumptions and from Santana's personality and mood swings.

"No, Papi. I just wanted to come home. I want to see Mami," she said out. If she was hurt by her father's earlier comment, she was not showing it.

"Bueno. Breakfast?" her father quirked an eye.

"Sure," Santana stood up and went down the stairs for breakfast.

Right after breakfast, she went to her mother's tombstone. It was a cloudy day, and an overcast sky hovered overhead. It was a perfect day for visiting tombstones.

"Mami," she started as she drew in a deep breath. "I miss you."

Her breath sounded ragged as she lowered her head. The wind blew by, making her teeth chatter and she hurriedly zipped her jacket up.

"I miss you so much," Santana cried.

"I know, it hurts to lose you. Mami, I don't know what to do. You have no idea how much it hurts me."

The wind howled and shrieked as she stood in front of her mother's headstone. "Look at me Mami, look at what you had made of your daughter. Weak…frail, I can't do this myself Mami," Santana cried in anguish.

She looked up to the sky and into her mother's headstone again. "Before, when you were still alive, I used to think that talking to headstones was a stupid thing. Now I understand. Mami, I miss you so much."

She cried.

Until she could cry no more and there was a voice that sounded like her mother's…

"_be strong…"_

"But, Mami…I can't…it hurts so much. I can't bear to see them together…"

She sniffed and tried to wipe her tears away. "She and that Sam guy…they were so happy…Mami, why can't I be happy? Even for once?"

_Maybe she wasn't supposed to be._ She thought.

She sat there, in silence, as she thought about Brittany and Sam. She can't just figure out why she had to lose her. Maybe life just works that way. Or whatever.

That afternoon, she went back to downtown New York, and she was surprised when she saw a crouching Brittany Pierce at her door.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I was waiting for you since last night. I couldn't enter your apartment, so I slept here," Brittany stated a matter-of-factly. "You left in a hurry and I tried calling you but you did not answer."

"Uhh, I left my phone…inside," Santana's eyes guiltily darted from the blonde's eyes to the floor.

_How could she let Brittany do something like that? How could she let her be so…_

_Stupid fucking idiot, Santana. That's what you are. First class idiot._

"Come inside," Santana said and finally opened her door. Her apartment was epically messy, and it took Brittany a couple of minutes to roam her eyes around the room.

"What just happened in your place, Santana?"

"Uhh…I don't know," Santana said out as she skipped past a broken bottle of beer to retrieve her iPhone from the floor.

"What exactly happened to you, Santana?" Brittany asked, her tone serious and authoritative.

"Nothing," Santana answered meekly. "Nothing had happened."

"If nothing happened, why all of this is like…some monster came in here and caused it?" Brittany's eyes wandered around.

At the word "monster", Santana's eyes flared up. Her whole body felt as if she was on fire and she faced the blonde with dead, fiery, obsidian eyes.

"It's none of your business, now get out of my house!" she bellowed.

"Santana, I just…I only wanted to know if you're okay…Santana," Brittany's face hung slacked. She did not know Santana could be that angry. In their months of being close, he had never seen the Latina that way.

Darkness clouded Santana's judgement. And it has clouded her mind into a hazy smoke. She might or might not hurt Brittany. And Brittany might or might not live through it if she would ever attack her.

"Get out, now!" Santana bellowed.

"Okay, fine! You don't have to yell," Brittany left the room in a hurry, wondering what she could have said or did for Santana to act that way. That night, she left Santana slumped in the middle of a heap of mess and went home.

"So what's with the face?" Quinn asked from her computer when she came in with a frustrated face. Knowing Brittany, Quinn assumed that something has shot her evening, and she better yet, thought of something to be done about it.

"What up?" she asked.

"Santana yelled at me," Brittany answered.

"Why?" Quinn's eyes hazel pierced hers.

"I don't know exactly. I've waited for her to come home and I asked her if she's okay, or something, but she yelled at me," Brittany sat and huffed across Quinn.

"Wow, that's really a bad mood," Quinn clicked her tongue.

"Quinn, I just want to ask, not that I am losing my mind here, mind you, but don't you think Santana's a little bit different?"

"No, apart from the fact that she's some sort of a technology geek."

"No, not that thing. I mean, didn't you see her do something? Today she yelled at me like she would want to kill me or any other person and rip them apart, you know…"

"So, Detective Pierce," Quinn said jokingly. "What's your point?"

"My point is…" she inhaled. "I think Santana Lopez is weird. Like, really weird. And dangerously weird."


	10. Chapter 10

"Like what weird?" Quinn's eyes bulged. "I don't get it."

"I don't get it either. I just have that annoying hunch that tells me something's underneath her pretty face," Brittany looked straight at Quinn.

"Like she's a lesbian or something?" Quinn replied.

"Quinn Fabray! Please, don't let your idle judgment mislead you!" Brittany exclaimed.

"Well, you said so, Britt. How about we run a background check on her or something, you know? Maybe she's on Google."

"Maybe, we should," Brittany said after a few moments of utter consideration.

"I just don't' understand why you had to know every single thing about Santana Lopez," Quinn said as she sat behind Brittany, and looked as the taller blonde type out Santana's name in a people search engine.

"Here are seven results," Brittany read out. "Feel free to read, Quinn. Well, I was really noticing something off about Santana. Like she is super moody, that she has this ever ticking time-bomb inside her that in a single slip it starts ticking and the next second, it blew on you."

"Mhmm…here," Quinn dragged the mouse cursor over the second result. "I also saw that some sort of sharp look back at the restaurant. It's like, she was staring at the glass, the one that broke…she was staring at it so hard and then wham, it's broken. I doubt that she had something to do with it though, you know."

"I doubt that too," Brittany said absently as she tried to read the third result. "Can you keep looking?"

"Yeah sure," Quinn replaced Brittany on the chair. "What bothers me most were her eyes. They so secretive and like…there's something dark in the-" Quinn suddenly let out a gasp. "Holy cow, is this her?"

"What? Who?" Brittany moved off to look at the computer.

"Santana Maria Lopez, duhh…she's a Richie Bitch," Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Y-yeah, this is her. She's the daughter of the richest tycoon on Wall Street? She never mentioned that…she's not even in college," Brittany mumbled with a hint of confusion.

"Look," Quinn said out. "Maybe she really did not want you to know, or anything…"

"Creepy. Maybe she just wanted to work for herself," Brittany concluded.

"Could be. Why don't you ask her?"

"Because, she's…I don't know," Brittany said out.

"Okay. Her mother died, earlier this year," Quinn read.

"Oh, she never talked about her mom," Brittany said out. Another question came up to her mind. She's going to ask that Latina one of these days, but not yet now. Not yet.

They looked for backgrounds about Santana Lopez that night, from hierarchy to nationality, to her father's business. Clearly, there was nothing much about Santana Lopez, except that she was once admitted to a medical school in New York.

That night, Brittany Pierce twisted and turned in her bed to let sleep come to her, but unfortunately, it was of no avail.

She yawned at her Biology class the next morning. She still wondered, but Santana seemed to have forgotten her.

Weeks passed. She did not call Santana, nor did Santana call her.

_She really has forgotten her._

Sam parked in front of her school to pick her up, Brittany smiled although she had no idea why her boyfriend was there. It had been weeks since Sam's arrival in New York and her feelings for Sam resurfaced again. It had been a rocky relationship when they were in high school, but now, both of them seemed so happy.

"Hi, Sam," she grinned at her boyfriend.

"Hey, girlfriend. How's school?"

"Good, umm…not to be rude, but what are you doing here?" Brittany raised an eyebrow.

"I want to spend time with you, you know. It's been a long while. And I remember how it was like in high school, you know. Sipping all those iced teas…I still want to do that before I go back to Iraq."

"Wow, I guess time flies by so fast. I did not know you were leaving. I guess…I just forgot," Brittany forced out a smile. It was crooked, and it was more of a pained expression, although she tried to be as happy as she could muster.

"Sorry, I know. But…Brittany," Sam groaned.

"No, it's fine. When are you leaving?" Brittany found herself asking.

"The day after tomorrow. Care for lunch?" Sam asked, hoping to dodge the painful topic.

"I still have to go to the library," Brittany quickly made up an excuse and turned away, so Sam could not see her tearful eyes.

"No, Brittany," Sam said out as he grasped Brittany's arm. "We need to talk."

"Let me go," Brittany said out loud.

"No, Brittany. I won't. I need to talk to you and make you understand. I won't lose you," Sam pleaded. "Please, Brittany."

Brittany broke down crying, even before she had reached the comfort of Sam's embrace. There, she cried. She cried to such extent that her shoulders were shaking terribly.

_And Santana Lopez had seen it all._

She was standing across the street, watching Brittany, just like all the other days these past weeks. They were fighting, Sam and Brittany. She can see that Brittany's totally hurt by something Sam had said, judging from the shift in Brittany's grin…

And the way Brittany's smile fade into nothingness broke her heart into a thousand pieces all over again. Anger sprouted inside her, making her want to kill Sam Evans, then and there. But when Brittany shook uncontrollably in the boy's arms, she can't bear to walk up there and rip that fresh face off.

So she just stood there, wishing she was the one Brittany cried on, wishing that the person holding her was her.

_Shit, she can't fall in love with her. Because she knows she can't. She's not worth it. And Brittany can't love her the way she wanted her to._

Sam was stroking Brittany's hair before the both of them got into Sam's car, and she wistfully looked at the speeding car away from her when someone yelled across the street.

"Santaaanaaa!" it was a blonde girl. Quinn, it was Quinn, Brittany's best friend.

Santana nodded as the woman walked up to her, and she was not happy to see that girl. She seemed to know so much about her and it threatens her.

"Hi," Quinn grinned brightly.

"Hi," Santana just gave out a forced smile. "I have to go."

With that, Quinn was left alone on the sidewalk as she strutted northward, the direction where Sam and Brittany had gone off to.

She walked through cafés and restaurants, dodging mobs of people and just walking, until she looked right into the glass of a certain Italian restaurant, and her heart broke again.

Sam was holding Brittany's hand lovingly, and Brittany was smiling at Sam, inwardly, even. She seemed lonely, but she was kind of making the most of the time she had spending with Sam.

_She wished Brittany could smile at her like that._

_But it was just a wish. And a wish shall it stay._

After sometime of watching them, Santana felt too lonely, too hurt to stay, so she started to walk away and headed home. It was pretty draining, not the walk, but watching Brittany so happy and she…well, so messed up.

That night, she cried so much on her bed, but she still knew crying won't be a help in any way. She cried, until she could cry no more and she drifted into a chaotic sleep.

Morning sun woke her up with puffy eyes. And there was an annoying rasping of the door. Santana swung her legs away from the bed and swaggered across her messy living room to the door.

"I told you not to knock when you leave the news-" she swung the door open and her mouth hung in silence.

"I brought you breakfast," Brittany said. "Look, Santana, I'm sorry."

"Why are you here?" Santana mumbled.

"We need to talk. There are things we've said between us that we did not mean. And I want to explain some things, to you."


	11. Chapter 11

Santana stared at Brittany, who just made her way across the room. The thick air between them all felt too awkward.

"I want to apologize. I mean...it would have been very rude of me…to ask so much from you. It's like I'm forcing you out of the open when you're not ready. I'm so sorry, Santana," Brittany started to say.

"There's nothing you have to be sorry about," Santana looked at her apologetically. "It's my fault too. Like, I yelled at you."

"Maybe, but I caused you to yell at me. I'm really sorry, Santana. I did not mean to pry into your private life," Brittany smiled uneasily.

"It's okay. I mean, I did not tell you anything, because, I really suck at telling people things," Santana flung several books into the other side of the coffee table. "Sorry about my place, it's really messy. The actual definition of orderliness and cleanliness doesn't actually suit me," Santana gave a half-smile.

"That's okay, Quinn is a messy person too, so I'm kinda used to it," the blue eyes rummaged through the stack and heaps of books of genetics and chemistry and abnormal psychology.

"So, you study at home?" Brittany questioned.

"Nahh, it's just that…I'm kind of having this pet project of mine," Santana gritted her teeth. She sure hoped that Brittany did not smell the lie between her words.

And apparently, Brittany did not seem to be oblivious of her lie.

"Mhm…nice," Brittany drawled on.

"Coffee? Chocolate? Fruit juice? What would you like?" Santana asked as she bent over the fridge.

"Anything you're having," Brittany smiled from the couch. She was busily reading a book just under her nose as Santana came and brought her a cup coffee.

"So why are you really here?" Santana looked at Brittany with questioning eyes as she munched on her breakfast.

"Sam is leaving for Iraq, and I kind of want the both of you to hang out together, you know…try to know each other more. Quinn and I felt it as a need, you know."

"Okay," Santana nodded. "When?"

"Tonight, that's if you're willing," Brittany beamed at the Latina with hopeful eyes. Her food had been long gone and she was sitting on her seat as nervously as ever.

A part of Santana was screaming to high heavens that she shouldn't say yes, but in all honesty, she wanted to prove to everyone that she's normal, that she also needed friends, and that she can go mix herself in with other people, normal people to say in the least.

"Please?" Brittany gave out her puppy-eyes and beamed at Santana.

_To hell with it._

She eased back on her chair and looked into the blue-eyed blonde. "Sure. That would be fine with me."

Brittany smiled wide as she stood up. "That's settled then, we'll pick you up in the afternoon, okay?" a short kiss from Brittany landed on Santana's forehead.

"Sure," Santana said as she absent-mindedly as she took in the blonde's scent. She could die in it, she's pretty sure.

"Okay, so I'll have to get going now. Quinny and Rachel asked me to go shopping with them, so, bye, San. Take care."

Santana watched the blonde walk towards the door and disappear into the hallway.

It took her a few minutes of siting there, celebrating that she is actually in good terms with Brittany. But there was still one problem. Like, a major problem.

_She's still with Sam, and she's alone._

Santana went back to her stacks of books and started to flip over the pages, absentmindedly looking at the photographs and stuff she was supposed to read. And time flew by too fast.

There was a knock on the door, and Santana wasn't aware it was already afternoon. It could be Brittany, or…

"Hi," Brittany let herself in as she grinned.

"Hello." Santana mumbled as she clasped a book close. "Sorry, I wasn't really aware of the time, so can I…can I just take a shower?"

"Yeah, I mean, take your time," Brittany smiled as she looked at Santana.

It was comical, but Santana had showered in record time. She darted straight to her bedroom and quickly clothed herself.

She found Brittany waiting for her on the couch, twiddling her own blonde locks and staring at the window.

"Hi," Brittany looked at her with inquisitive eyes. "Well, that was kind of fast, eh?" Brittany grinned.

"Yeah. I know. I kind of hate to keep people waiting. Let's go?" Santana offered.

"Sure," Brittany smiled as they headed for the front door.

"I really, really hope that you are okay with all this bother," Brittany said as Santana headed for the basement parking.

"Well, actually, I might be enjoying this, myself," Santana said as she opened the door of her Focus.

"Nice car, Sanny," Brittany mumbled as she got in the car.

"Well, my Papi gave this to me when I visited him," Santana said as the car engine turned to life.

"Wow, that's wonderful. Like, that doesn't happen every time. You visit your parents, they give you a car...classy," Brittany smiled and gave out a low, abrupt sigh.

"Look, don't misunderstand me for a richie bitch, 'cause I am not one of them. Hell, I'm even working for myself, so don't give me that," Santana said with conviction as they turned down the busy road.

"What?" Brittany grinned.

"That look!" Santana quipped and smiled at her friend. "That look you're giving me like you're not believing me!"

"You know, Santana, I trust you. Why are you avoiding me so much? Like you're not in the mood to trust me or whatsoever," Brittany looked away.

"I don't know. I mean, trusting people had been a very hard thing for me, ever since I was young, so I just keep to myself."

Brittany sat there, seeming to consider the idea of Santana being so withdrawn and then she spoke out. "It doesn't mean that you hate me, right?"

"Of course, no. No, I could not hate you, I mean...I hate a lot of people...I just don't know," Santana looked at Brittany with confused eyes.

"Hey, just chill, okay? You can trust me. I know this would be a big leap for you and a whole long shot, but trust me on this, okay?" Brittany smiled at her from the passenger's side.

"But..." Santana's eyes darted from the road to Brittany and back to the blacktop road again.

"Just trust me, okay?" Brittany gave out an assuring tone.

"Okay," Santana answered weakly. "Okay."

"I promise you I won't ruin that trust, okay? Now, we have a party to get into at my place," Brittany loosened up.

Santana just nodded as they turned to where Brittany's place was.

Things went smoothly after that, and Sam and Santana seemed cool enough, although, they never really had an actual, decent conversation, things never went to serious for Santana.

Until she had to go home.

"Sanny, I'll just drive you, okay? You had a couple of beers and I know it's already late," Brittany said out.

"No, I'm fine, really."

"Santana, please, just let Brittany drive you," Sam said easily.

_Wrong move._

"What the fuck do you want?" she thundered. Eyes bulged at her reaction.

"Come on, now, Santana...please," Brittany's voice became pleas.

She can't say no to Brittany. And she is too weak to argue, so she just nodded and let Brittany put her in the car.

They arrived at the Latina's apartment and they got in. In a few minutes, Brittany was leaving Santana's flat. And then she noticed something chucked into the hamper inside Santana's room.

It was a brown leather jacket.


	12. Chapter 12

The whole ride home had been a blur to Brittany. It seemed that her heartbeat had been running a bajilion miles an hour, making her heave dangerously. The taxi man was careful not to ask her what's wrong, but he certainly gave Brittany a look.

_She had that leather jacket. That leather jacket was the same jacket the person who saved her in the subway wore some weeks ago. Could it be her actually?_

_No. She can't do it._

_There is no way Santana could do something as brutal as that. And the police could not find anything as evidence._

She ran her mind back to the morning news the next day the incident happened.

"_it was a love triangle..."_

She arrived at her apartment and Quinn looked up at her from the couch.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Pierce?" she asked as Brittany walked into the room like a bomb had been blown up right in front of her face.

"Quinn..." she started. "Quinn, there's something you've got to know," Brittany's chest rose up and down as she looked at the hazel-eyed blonde. Apparently, Quinn did not seem so interested and was looking at her perfectly done nails.

"Quinn, this is important. It's about Santana."

Instantly, Quinn's head shot up and she moved closer to Brittany's side of the couch. "Okay, what?"

Brittany rose up and took a newspaper from a drawer then she put it on the coffee table. "Remember this?"

"I never liked One Direction," Quinn mumbled as she looked on an article with Harry Style's face.

"No, look at the other page," Brittany said, clearly annoyed.

"Oh, okay. Sorry, my bad," Quinn said. "Three juveniles found dead in subway..." she read out and her face frowned a little. "So?" she threw Brittany a questioning look.

Brittany sighed. "Quinn, remember the night before this date?"

Quinn shook her head. "No, not that much, where was I?"

"You wenr with Rachel and Finn, and I had to go home alone and I had to take the subway," Brittany explained.

"So? You killed them?" Quinn said out.

"No!" Brittany almost screamed. "And it wasn't a love triangle, Quinn. I was there when these kids were murdered."

It took Quinn a good one full minute to react as the room felt silent. "A murder? But why not a love triangle?"

"It was a murder, Quinn. And the person who killed the three of them was only one," Brittany sighed and leaned back on her chair.

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked her.

"Those kids were muggers. They tried to take my bag when this person, girl actually, came from nowhere and ripped them all apart, but I could not see her face because I fell from the platform," Brittany tried to remember what had happened to her that night.

Quinn looekd at her and mouthed a silent 'go on' as she listend, trying to ingest every single word Brittany would say.

"So all I can see were the shadows that looked like paper dolls being torn and all I can remember about that vigilante was her brown leather jacket," Brittany stated.

"So how does this all concern Santana Lopez?" Quinn mumbled.

"I saw an identical jacket in her hamper," Brittany said out flatly. It wasn't an accusing tone, just simple observation.

"So you're telling me here that, it could be Santana Lopez who ripped all those kids open?" Quinn said out as if she ahd really figured it all out.

"I don't know, Quinn. I'm not telling you that. It's just that, Santana...do you think she can do it?" Brittany wondered out lud,

"Actually, gilr, I really have no idea, because, I really don;t know her that much. But if I were to give out my opinion, yeah, I think she could do something like that. The way she looks at people sometimes, it scares me. Like, she's some sort of monster or vampire or demon or whatever you call it. Sometimes, I get this feels when I look into her eyes and I see them like they're hungry for something," Quinn explained.

"I don't know, Quinn..." Brittany wondered. "I wish I knew."

"Why don't you ask her?" Quinn raised her suggestive eye.

"What am I supposed to barge in her apartment and ask her if she had murdered three people? Quinn, it doesn't work that way, you know," Brittany reasoned out.

"Oh, well, it wouldn't hurt to ask her, you know, in a good way," Quinn stated. "Besides, you're like, good close friends, right? Right?" Quinn added a tone that's practically not about the question itself, but Brittany's relationship with Santana.

"We're just friends, that's all, okay?" Brittany held up her hands in the air.

"Okay, no need to be defensive!" Quinn's face scrunched. "I mean if you're friends, then stay friends, okay? It's not like you're cheating on Sam or whatsoever. Oh my god Brittany, don't tell me you're fucking gay. Are you gay, Brittany?"

"No, I am not in any way gay, okay?" Brittany huffed.

"Okay," Quinn was smart enough to ask no more questions. "Maybe we should all go to bed, you know. You've got to go with Sam to the airport, right?"

"Yeah, maybe I think we should go to sleep, because I feel like a twerp having all these question swimming inside my head like it's some sort of bubonic plague," Brittany rose up from the couch and went into her room.

But sleep would not come to her, it was more than she could bear and all she can think about was Santana.

And then there was the intriguing question from her dear roommate's pretty little mouth.

"_Are you gay, Brittany?"_

It has been a long while since she had been asked that, and she felt as if she knew the ansewer, only that she would not answer it straight to the point. And the reason was she was afraid of what might people say about her.

Truth is, she is attracted to Santana. Ever since the first time she saw her on Battery Park the night she and Quinn went out to buy dinner, she had been attracted to the Latina. And to be challenged by Santana's dark and mysterious personality was an added challenge to her.

And Santana had been bothering her ever since. But to think that there was a possibilty of what could be the real Santana, this was a little scary for her.

But Sam? He would run a bajilion miles just to get to her, he would do everything to make her happy. Any girl that Sam would end up with is considered lucky. And she should be happy she had him.

Brittany twisted and turned on her bed, until she fell into an uncomfortable sleep, and then Quinn shook her to wake up.

"Wake up Brittany, or we'll be late to catch Sam!" Quinn ranted on top of her.

"Jesus Christ, Quinn? Shut it!" Brittany thwacked a pillow at her roommate.

"Come on, let's get you to shower!" Quinn literrally dragged Brittany from bed and all that Brittany could do was let the other blonde do her thing.

Thirty-five minutes later, she was standing on the foyer of the airport, looking at Sam.

"Take care," she said.

"Yeah, you too," Sam smiled.

She had wanted to tell Sam that she can't love her the way he did, but she could save it. Save it for later. Call her a coward, but she just can't walk out of Sam's life. She can't leave him like shit.

They've left for the airport as soon as Sam walked to his gate. And when they pulled out towrds the road, Brittany could feel an air of freedom wash over her, making her feel so free, and uninhibited.

The day dragged on for Brittany. She and Quinn shopped, went to look at the fountains, it was already twilight when they reacehd home. And Brittany felt really tired after their epic spree.

She went into her room and she immediately noticed a folded paper on her windowsill.

"Want to talk?", it read.

She quickly opened her window and looked out to the fleeting light.

No one was there.

"How are you?" Santana was sitting on the steps of the fire escape.

"Hi," Brittany grinnned as sje made her way to where Santana sat.


	13. Chapter 13

The cold wind whipped that traversed through the rails whipped across Santana's face, making her cheeks tinge red. It was a mellow night, the moon was shining over their heads like a golden coin and Brittany looked at Santana.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" she asked coyly.

"Umm, nothing, just tell me anything," Santana said, and Brittany just chuckled.

Santana chuckled softly, too. After a few moments, she fell silent as the blonde sat looking at her intently. "What?" she quipped.

"Nothing. You just look beautiful. I mean, you know, you should do that thing a lot more," Brittany smiled.

"What thing?" Santana asked.

"That smiling thing. Your smile looks good on you, honestly," Brittany held up her right hand.

"So?" Santana laughed and raised her eyebrows.

"I really mean it, Santana. I think you should smile more," Brittany smiled. "Like my smile..." she smiled even wider.

"Really?" Santana beamed. "Maybe, right now, it's just had to be you, Brittany. I'll start to smile at one person first."

"You've got yourself a deal, Santana," Brittany smirked, holding her hand out front.

Santana took the paler hand. "Deal."

After a while, they sat there, settling in a comfortable silence. It wasn't eerie to Santana, ans it wasn't uncomfortable. It wasn't the kind of silence that could make Santana feel lonely, and cause her heart to burst out. The silence seemed all too different. It was unlike the silence in her room when she suffers at night when she's alone.

It was beautiful silence.

"The stars," Brittany whispered.

"What?" Santana cleared her throat, not really catching what the blonde had said.

"The stars, look at them," Brittany smiled as she stared at the twinkling diamonds in the sky.

"Yeah?" Santana growled softly.

"They're beautiful. I wonder if they think we're beautiful, too," Brittany leaned on Santana's shoulders. "Is it okay if I do this?"

With a small agreeing shrug from Santana's shoulders, the blonde settled in for the warmth. Santana also bucked herself to give the blonde more comfortable leaning position.

"Do they think we're beautiful?" Brittany mumbled.

"I don't know," Santana said out, her mind shutting down in all circuits as Brittany's breath touched her neck.

_I think you're beautiful too._ Santana said in the back of her mind, but her thoughts were only swallowed by the silence and the dark.

Silence.

"Santana, what is the worst thing you can do?" Brittany asked, teetering the conversation into the familiar depths of her frustrations.

"I'm kind of violent," Santana smiled sadly. "I'm never afraid to cut a bitch. I mean, when I was in high school, people avoid me because they get a cut with my vicious words," she chuckled.

Except that, in her real life, she was attending home school after the whole locker fight she was in when she was in middle school.

"Really? Then maybe I really shouldn't cross your way," Brittany clicked her tongue.

"Yeah, maybe you shouldn't. But I care so much for my friends, really. I might be alone most of the time, but I care for you, Brittany. I mean, you are my best friend, so I really care for you, like a whole nine yards of care."

Brittany felt the heat rise up from her neck to her cheeks. "Wow, I'm kind of flattered."

"Is that blush?" Santana pointed at Brittany's face.

"Oh, no. It's not blush. It's just the cold air," Brittany dabbed the back of her right palm to her cheeks.

Brittany breathed hard. She's tired of running around in circles.

"Santana, have you ever tried protecting someone from hurt? Like, really save them, from muggers, or from a truck or murderers?" Brittany asked, trying to trick Santana.

_Maybe...maybe...just a single slip Santana would commit._

"Quiet a few times," Santana smiled easily. "I saved one from being murdered."

_Oh God!_

Brittany tried to calm herself, even if her heartbeat was humming inside her. "Okay, really? When?"

"Some few months ago," Santana looked away. "Back in the subway."

_Ok_, s_hit._ Brittany deadpanned.

"What happened?" Brittany held her breath as she asked.

_This is it._ Brittany thought.

"Oh, I had to bring her back to her hysterical owner. You know, I had sneezed a couple of times because of that cat, and one too many hairs got stuck in my leather jacket that I had to wash it three times," Santana tried to laugh.

_Shit. Dead shit. It's not her._

"Do you hate cats? I got feels that you do," Brittany dragged the conversation to new directions.

"After that, yeah I decided to hate cats," Santana smiled smugly.

"I love cats! They're adorable, cute and funny. I have one, Lord Tubbs is his name. You want to meet him?" Brittany's eyes almost popped from her head.

Santana found it pretty funny and cute at the same time.

"Some other day, Britt."

"Okay, but promise me you will meet him, okay?" Brittany pleaded. "He's a bad-ass, you better be prepared."

"I'm a bad-ass too," Santana cocked her head sideways, mustering an arrogant look. "See?"

"I see," Brittany grinned as she looked down and tried to twirl her hair around her fingers.

Another phase of silence left the two girls to dwell on their thoughts, and Santana could feel the heavy, thick air of tension around them. Suddenly, Brittany looked up to her.

"Do you always feel alone?" Brittany asked innocently out of the blue.

Santana wanted to cover up, figure out some reasons, but she knows the blonde could see past her scowl. "Yeah, honestly, I do. Although, not all of the time. Sometimes, I just do a lot of things to keep me busy so I wouldn't think of those things," Santana answered.

"Mhmm...don't you want to have friends? I mean, you can have my friends as your friends, too. There's Quinn and Rachel and Mike and his girlfriend..."

"Look, we don't have to rush. Right now, all I want is just a person, you know," Santana shrugged her shoulders blatantly.

"Okay, your own terms, I think you know what I mean and I know what you mean too, so, we're good," Brittany's voice chirped out like a million wind chimes and Santana felt like she was going to drown into a dreamless sleep. She could hear it forever.

And she tried to memorize every single sound that dropped from Brittany's mouth. It would be good company for her when Sam, or whoever that spends time with Brittany comes along and Brittany would be too busy for night like what they were doing.

"What are you thinking?" Brittany looked at her with deep blue eyes.

"No-no-nothing..." Santana stammered as she lied through her teeth.

"Really?"

Brittany looked at the obsidians shining in the dark. And Santana did not answer.

Silence again.

"Wow, I really did not know it could be this..." she stammered, her breath went out like a small cloud from her mouth as her eyes ventured farther to the shining city lights some fifty feet below them.

"Beautiful?" Santana filled up for the word.

"Yeah, it's breath-taking. I mean...it's taking my breath away..." Brittany said as she stared to the city below them.

_You're taking my breath away, too._ Santana thought.

"Brittany?" she said after she composed herself for a few moments. She needs to keep quiet. If she wont control the aneurism that is her heart, then maybe this whole 'hanging out' with Brittany would be shot to hell completely.

"Yeah?"

"You don't go here often, do you?" Santana asked casually, pretending to play it cool.

"Nope. I really did not have time to. I mean, I'm kinda scared of heights," Brittany smiled shyly at the Latina in front of her.

"Then why are you here? I mean, what made you come up here, when it's scaring the hell out of you?" Santana questioned.

"Because you are here, Santana. I feel safe when I am with you. It's like, you could protect me from whatever that might hurt me," she said out.

"Wow," Santana breathed out, hoping to reign her feelings inside. "That's flattering," she added flatly.

"So, how did your goodbye to Sam go?" Santana crossed her arms as she leaned on the steel rails behind her, looking so stale and passive.

This was what Brittany hated, and dreaded. It felt so awkward, talking about Sam, with Santana. It was like, she was dangling a torch just a few inches from a dry wheat field. Anytime now, fire would eat their conversation.

"It was fine. I went shopping with Quinn today, which seemed very irrelevant," Brittany smiled sadly.

"Does it hurt, Brittany?" Santana's face was serious, like dead-flat serious that even a squirrel could freeze in her looks.

"Honest answer?" Brittany smiled sadly, again. "Honestly, saying goodbye to anyone important to me actually sucks."

"I'm sorry," Santana said flatly.

"Nahh, it's not even your fault. Besides..." she looked at Santana expectantly.

"What?" Santana feigned that she as intrigued.

"There was someone else. I don't know. It's just that I am attracted to someone else, other that Sam. I haven't told him yet, because I can't hurt him because he had been so good to me and I can't hurt him."

Santana looked at her as if Brittany was reciting a lie.

"Well," it was all Santana had said. "I mean, look, Britt, if he really loves you, then let him love you. He's fighting for it, you know. But if you're not happy of what you have right now, go fight for your happiness," Santana smiled.

"I wish happiness and love, they're alike," Brittany sighed.

"Well, I don't know much about love, only that it's friggin' hard to find and even harder to keep," Santana said out.

"What if it wasn't Sam, Santana?" Brittany asked. "What if the person I love was someone who doesn't know about my feelings?"

_What if it was you, Santana?_ Brittany's thought was pushed behind by her fear of being rejected.

"I think you should fight for it," Santana looked at Brittany. "It's what all the princesses and princes in the fairytales do. They fight for love."

"Only that, Santana, this isn't a fairytale. This is real life, Santana," Brittany looked at the Latina. "What about you, Santana? Would you fight for someone you love?" she asked.

"That depends, we fight for the love we deserve, Brittany," Santana said with such forcefulness and serene stillness that it sounded like a verdict.

More silence and a few minutes after, Brittany was leaning on Santana's shoulder again, fast asleep.

"Good night, Brittany. Good night," Santana slung the blonde in her arms and carried her to the window, to her bed and went back to her place, where she watched the sleeping blonde

"_We fight for the love we deserve, Brittany."_

Words rang through Santana's mind. And then, there was that unsaid phrase.

_And I deserve you, Brittany._

She watched Brittany sleep till the sky in the east grew a pale rose color.

**A/N:I am really sorry if this fic actually took slower than usual. It's because of three things, actually. I have my midterm examinations, I just had my eyes checked up and I had to wear glasses and I have three theses to research on. I am really sorry guys, but I assure you that I am so writing this fic. Only that I wouldn't upload this as regularly as I did before.**

**P.S. this fic is unbeta-ed and I really need a beta. Like, badly need it.**


	14. Chapter 14

She was taking a nap when Santana heard a knocking on her door and she painstakingly dragged her bones towards the rasping sound. "Just a sec," she mumbled, clearly annoyed at the repeating sound. It was more of a grumble and a mumble and she finally opened her door.

"Hi," it was Quinn. It was Brittany's little blonde roommate.

"Hi," Santana said awkwardly. "Get in."

"Thanks," Quinn answered as she walked past Santana and roamed her eyes around the room. She seated on the not-so-messy side of the settee that Santana had in the living room.

"Sorry, it's a little messy," Santana said. "I really had a...a hard time cleaning up because I was busy," Santana said, following Quinn's gaze around her place.

"That doesn't matter," Quinn replied softly and turned her head towards Santana. "I only came here to talk about something."

"Okay, what is it?" Santana sat across Quinn.

"Okay, I'll cut to the chase, Santana. What are you, actually?"

"What am I actually?" Santana retorted. "What am I actually, Quinn Fabray. You tell me."

"Look, Santana, I don't want to pry in your life or judge you, okay? But Brittany is my friend and your name is screaming capital D-A-N-G-E-R to her. So if you'll just hurt her at the end, save it for someone else," Quinn declared.

"I don't get it," Santana scoffed. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Remember the first time you were introduced by Sam? I saw you, Santana."

"What do you mean you saw me, Quinn?" Santana tried to hide the distaste in her voice.

"Your eyes. You looked as if you're ready to skin him alive and feed him to your dogs. Then I saw you watching the glass. And it broke. No one even touched it. Then, Sam, he wasn't even a feet away from the broken glass, but when you averted your gaze to his right arm, he had a cut. Then, you excused yourself and never came back. Now, tell what are those things, Santana."

"What? Are you telling me I was the cause of all those things that happened?" Santana let out a high-pitched laugh. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Maybe, maybe not. I have to go now. I'm sorry for the bother. Just remember this, Santana. Don't hurt Brittany. If you can't like what she is doing, stay away from her," Quinn rose up and left for the door.

A few moments later, Santana heard a click, telling her that Quinn has left her apartment already.

_Quinn knew about her._

Santana leaned on her sink as she ran the water for a relaxing bath. She can't afford to let anyone know who she really is And I Brittany will know about her, probably the blonde will be running away because of what she is.

She stepped into the tub, still thinking of how she would make Quinn shut up. She was leaning her head when her phone rang on a wooden vanity beside her tub.

It was Brittany's voice.

"Hello?" she answered the call.

"Hey, Santana. How are you?"

"I'm good, you?"

"I'm great. Just taking a bath," Santana mumbled.

Brittany blushed in the other line, and there was that incessant throbbing between her legs. She mentally slapped herself or doing it, bur she can't shake the thought of Santana in a soapy tub, buck naked.

"Can...can I come...come over this afternoon? Quinn's going to a party and...and I kind of don't feel like going to it," Brittany whimpered on the other line.

"Oh-kay," Santana answered, actually with lesser heart strength.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I am," the Latina firmly said again, trying to put a foundation on her voice.

"Okay, I'll be there in like, twenty minutes, okay? Don't bother cooking, I'll bring food," with that, Brittany disconnected the call.

While waiting for Brittany, Santana opted to give her flat a make-over and herself a pep talk. It wasn't just her usual mantra of "don't trust them" and "no, don't tell her that". It was more than what she had played for all those years.

She can't let the blonde into her life because she's damn scared that she's going to break it all out on her. She doesn't hate Brittany. She just can't trust her.

Or maybe she's _scared_ to trust her.

Yes, definitely, she is _scared _trust her.

She jolted a little when she heard a knock on her front door that afternoon. She was in the middle of her inner dilemma and now her _real dilemma _has arrived.

It was Brittany.

She opened up, and she was met by the most warm smile she had ever seen. Santana had to struggle hard to reciprocate the smile back.

"Hi, I brought pizza," Brittany smiled. "Thanks for letting me come over."

"Thanks," Santana wrung the hem of her shirt. "Umm...for the pizza. Uhh, sit?" she said as she awkwardly motioned for the settee.

Brittany plopped on the couch before Santana could even finish her sentence. The blonde then quickly kicked off her shoes as she neatly stacked it beside the couch. "So, Santana, what are we gonna do?"

"Do?" Santana quirked her eyebrows. She doesn't have any idea.

Or maybe her brain just shut down. Or what.

"Okay," Brittany said evenly. "Since you don't seem to have a lot to do how about we ju-"

"No, we can do-" Santana blurted out. "Something."

"Okay, what?" Brittany grinned.

"Umm..." Santana gazed her eyes around her room and unfortunately, there is nothing that could seem to interest the blonde.

"Do you like..." Santana hesitated as she looked at Brittany, who was leaning over the couch to free her tangled shoe laces.

"Do you like...ducks?" she asked.

The blonde's head shot up, then it was followed by Brittany's signature mega-watt smile. "I love them!"

"Come on, let's go," Santana smiled as she tossed a brown leather jacket along Brittany's way.

"Ugh, I have to wear my shoes back?" Brittany wailed.

"I guess so, yeah, just stop complaining and go on," Santana quipped.

In five minutes, they were leaving Santana's apartment. They wound up through the busy streets, up and down the block, until they came to Central Park's duck pond.

"Hang on in there, okay? I've got to get something," Santana said.

She came back a few minutes later, carrying with her a bag of bread crumbs. She handed it to Brittany and Brittany tossed the crumbs to the ducks.

They stood there, silently feeding the ducks.

"Why do you like ducks?" Santana blurted out. It was a question that was actually out of the blue, and Santana had just said it because she felt like a twerp that was standing beside Brittany.

"They remind me of my mom and me when I was younger. Life here in New York sucks," Brittany said.

"Mhm? You bet?"

"Yeah. I hate to grow up. Right now, I feel so stressed out. I mean, it's not that I am a lazy student. You see, I have to act like I am a proper eighteen-year old and I don't get to try new things anymore..."

"I see," Santana half-smiled.

"What about you? Don't you miss your parents?" Brittany retorted a question herself.

"I miss them, of course. It's just that, you know...it's kind of hard to explain it," Santana said.

"Okay," Brittany said, not even bothering to hide the demeanor in her voice.

"My mom is dead," Santana said. "She died earlier this year."

"I'm so-"

"No, don't be," the voice in Santana was kind of harsh and Brittany winced at the Latin's words.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"It's alright!" Santana was becoming more and more unaware of her loud voice.

"Santana...Santana..." Brittany tried to hold Santana's stiff, tensed hands. "You're crying!"

By then, people were watching them already and Santana couldn't take it. The knot in her chest was getting tighter and tighter, her vision was starting to get darker and darker, her breathing heavier than her usual, and she feels as if she's plunging back into the darkness again.

She dashed to the first line of trees of the small pocket forest.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: WARNING: This update contains violent scenes.**

Brittany was left alone, sitting on the bench. People looked at her, and she suddenly had the urge to just mix into the bench's color. The onlookers quickly averted their eyes the moment she looked at them. Finally, she sprinted towards the direction where Santana had ran.

The place seemed a little kind of dark. But she didn't mind. What's important to her is that she could find Santana as quick as possible.

But she didn't. And she really can't.

She was getting scared by the second. And then she saw her.

She was writhing, sweaty, curled up into a ball, laying on the ground, chest heaving horribly and back arched down, convulsing into tremendous spasms. Santana was crying so hard.

"Santana," Brittany called.

"Don't come near me!" Santana let out a animal-like, monstrous-sounding yell.

It was more than enough to let Brittany stand rooted to the ground. She stood in silence as Santana was crying on the forest bed.

"Let's go, home..." she squealed.

"No!" Santana growled, her voice seemed to not like hers, at all.

"I'm sorry..." Brittany's voice found it's way out through her thickly shut throat.

Suddenly, from the left of Brittany, two swaggering drunkards appeared.

"Mhm...dinner," one grinned out a pedophile, toothless grin. "Dinner for both of us, Ed!"

"Mhm..." the shorter one, named Ed and a more shrewd-looking, bald with the height of a midget, threw Santana a lecherous look. "Aww, she's sad, Mac..." he looked at Brittany. "And you're sad too."

"Come...we'll make you happy and feel good," the taller man licked his lower lips whilst looking at Brittany's breasts as if he was looking at a plump turkey on Thanksgiving dinner.

"Stay away!" Brittany yelled. "Stay away! Or else..."

"Or else what," the man named Ed grinned.

"Her boyfriend will come in a box and...boo-yah!" the taller man named Mac advanced to pounce on Brittany. "Come here, you little twat, lemme fuck the hell outta you!"

Brittany tried to run, but Mac had caught her by the waist. Brittany squirmed the moment her skin came in contact with Mac's dirty exterior.

"Let go of me!" Brittany screamed. "Let go of me, you jerk!"

A thud sounded behind them, but Mac kept going.

A hand gripped Mac by the shoulder. The grip was hard, forcing him to let go of Brittany and turn around.

"What the fuck?" he yelled angrily.

"Let her," Santana's eyes were of the blackest black, and then her grip went on tighter on Mac's shoulders, making his bones break. The cracking sound was evident. "Go."

Santana abruptly pulled her hand away from Mac, dragging him by the shoulder blade, tearing the flesh apart. He collapsed on the ground, but Santana wasn't satisfied with it.

"Die!" she grinned, and then laughed out hard. She snickered, before throwing Mac overhead, some twelve feet away from where she was standing. But Mac never reached the ground.

Santana had reached the distance in a blink. And she was awaiting to intercept Mac. And she did not fail.

Mac landed just above her, and only Santana's hand was touching Mac, his feet dangling on the air. Santana's hand was inside Mac's chest.

An evil snicker that sounded like from the bottoms of hell itself escaped Santana's mouth as she pulled out Mac's heart, tearing it away from the muscles and the pulmonary veins and arteries. Mac fell to the ground, his chest an empty whole, with blood was bubbling from the mutilated body.

And his heart was still thumping in a rapid rate, cradled in Santana's left hand.

Ed, by then sat on the ground, and he just saw it all. He started to run, but Santana was as quick as lightning, he was in front of Ed in a second. She was standing some five feet away from him.

"Fuck!" Ed gave out a yell as Santana advanced to him the same way a tiger pounces on a young fawn.

"Santana, don't!" Brittany yelled, after she had just recovered from the horrific scene that was played in front of her. On impulse, she picked up a heavy, wet branch and smacked it right through Ed's head, making him fall before Santana could even tear him up.

On the other hand, Santana, after seeing what had happened, tried to stop, seeing Brittany in front of her, but she was too late, she landed right into the blonde.

She swerved, though, causing her to fall to the ground first, with Brittany above her.

"Santana..." Brittany said. A cut was evident on the blonde's arm, and Santana saw it. She looked around.

After realizing what she had done, after seeing the torn carcass of a man once, Santana broke down crying. She felt the darkness envelope her, making her vulnerable, weak...and she can't control the anger bubbling inside her.

She's a freak. A monster. A hideous, murderous killing machine.

She let go of Brittany and turned her back away from Brittany, and cried horribly.

Her shoulders shook, and Brittany ran to Santana's side, soaking herself on the blood that tainted Santana's arm.

"He...saw...me. I...I killed..." Santana's voice was drowned by the heavy sobs. "I...kill...he...blood..."

"He won't remember, Santana..." Brittany held Santana's face. "He didn't..."

"Blood...he...blood...feel...I...scared...cops..." Santana blurted out, then she went into another fit of spasmodic cries.

"No one saw you, Santana...look...look at me," Brittany said.

She was pretty aware that she could be the next dead person in the crime scene. She might be dead, for all she knew. But, Brittany acted on instinct. She just let her heart do the job, she tried to channel all the assurance she wanted to convey to Santana in her touch.

She should be scared, but she's not. What is Santana by the way? Vampire? Monster? Killer?

It could be the three...altogether.

Santana looked up to her. Santana's eyes were a dark swirl of black anthracite, and they seemed to contain a great amount of something that scares Brittany. There was a flame, a flame that is needing to be quenched. There was the hunger that was begging to be satisfied.

And only death can satisfy that hunger. And only death could only quench that flame.

Santana enjoys killing people. She tears them apart.

Her eyes looked so dead. They shone, but their shine was a deadly glaze. Her eyes were like from the pits of hell itself. And Santana's face...she looked like she wants more...more blood...more death...more pain.

But Santana...she seemed so weak...and so needy. There was also that shade of gray in Santana's eyes. The longing for help, the need for freedom, Santana was begging Brittany to hear her screams in her quiet hell.

"Cops...scare...jail..." Santana's high-pitched inhalations brought her back.

"Come on, let's go home..." Brittany tried to let Santana stand.

Questions are for later. Right now, they have to get out of there.

"Don't...away...go...bad...stay...go..." Santana said between her sobs as she tried pushing Brittany away.

"Come on, Santana. I can't leave you here. Come on," Brittany dragged Santana.

"Can't...kill..." Santana slurred. Her vision was blurring, and she can't take it anymore.

"Let's go home," Brittany's voice started to fade as Santana's eyes hazed.

It was all Santana had heard before falling into the dark tunnel, only guided by the voice of her mother as she struggled to come back to her senses.


	16. Chapter 16

Brittany looked at the sleeping Latina, her mind in a turmoil. She had wracked her mind back and forth ad forth and back and had done it five hundred times all over again, just trying to figure out what Santana really is.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her wound nursed, and so is Santana's. But Santana's eyes wore dark circles from crying. After a few silent moments of Brittany watching Santana, she stirred.

"Hey," Brittany said scaredly.

"Why are you still here?" Santana asked, her voice sad and resentful.

"I want to stay."

"You can't. You've seen me," Santana answered, her face stoic and grave.

"I need to stay, Santana. I'm not scared," Brittany said back, her words escaping from her mouth like a gale.

"Are you out of your mind?" Santana stood up, then disappeared into a blur.

"I kill, because I need to. I'm a killer," Santana's breath grazed on Brittany's ear. She was behind Brittany.

"I'm not afraid, Santana."

"I could kill you," Santana said from the window.

"As I have said, I'm not afraid."

"Why?"

"I...I don't know. I want to be your friend," Brittany answered. Her eyes bore into Santana's eyes. "Don't shut me out, Santana. Please."

"I can't," Santana mumbled. "I can't let you in."

"If that means working my ass off just to be your friend, I will," Brittany declared.

"Do you know what I am?" Santana asked with a hurtful voice. "I'm a freak! A monster," tears welled up from Santana's eyes again and hurriedly dripped down her bronze cheeks.

"Come here," Brittany compelled the Latina to get closer to her. She led Santana to a mirror and let her face it. "What I see out there is a person, and a person who is capable of being loved."

"No one should love me," Santana cried.

"Shh...look at my eyes in the mirror. They tell you the opposite," Brittany claimed. "Don't they, Santana? Don't you see them?"

Santana did not answer.

"Santana, I want to be your friend," Brittany said. "I know, this would be a hard work for me, and you too, but I believe we'll manage."

"You're not scared. Why?" Santana said.

"Because, why would I be scared? You saved my life," she said, smiling silently.

"What?"

"I know, about you, Santana. And I know that you were just threatened. Or more like, you felt that I was threatened, you know," Brittany said. "I remember, Santana. Remember in the subway? Weeks ago?"

Santana did not answer.

"I don't hate you, Santana," she said. "I want to help you, too."

Still, Santana did not answer or flicker. Or move, even.

"I know, it's hard for you to trust me, but I really want you to do. I'm not forcing you, all I can do is wait," Brittany stated. "But I am willing to help you."

After realizing that Santana wasn't going to say anything, Brittany sadly looked away. She felt rejected, and she wanted to help Santana so much, but the Latina was just so closed and wouldn't open up herself to her.

She stared into the city lights, hoping that Santana would say something or move or do something just to make her feel it's alright.

"My mother died, and I wasn't able to help her," Santana said quietly as she looked at Brittany's way.

"Santana, you don't hav-"

"No, I want to."

"Okay, go on," Brittany smiled a little smile as she tried to get closer to Santana.

"She died while I was in med school. It's funny, you see. Funny, in a kind of bitter way," Santana scoffed, but Brittany's hand slowly wound around Santana's tan arm and snaked to her hand.

"I really loved her, you know. Papi, he was very busy at work. Mami had been the very best person ever there. She can't understand me that much, but she can feel the times when there's a storm in my heart and I feel like drowning, or something like that," Santana stared at the blue eyes looking up to her.

"You don't get anything I'm saying, right?" she quirked a brow at Brittany.

"No, I...I just had a hard time processing it. I am a little slow, you know," Brittany smiled.

"Sorry, am I too fast?" Santana asked worriedly.

"No, it's just that I am...well, I understand you, but I was just thinking how hard it must have been for you. You know, undergoing all those things," Brittany said out.

"Yeah, it was kind of hard," Santana said with a sad smile.

Brittany looked at the eyes that once scared her so much. They weren't dead-looking now, they were just full of resentment and sadness and pain and hurt and guilt and loneliness.

"I'm sorry, San. Do you want anything? Water, fresh air, walk? Something? Do you want me to open the windows for you?" Brittany said softly.

"I'm okay. If you're tired, you can go to sleep now," Santana said.

"No. I want to know you more. I want to be here for you," Brittany ran a hand between Santana's dark locks.

In turn, the brunette pushed herself towards the blonde's touch.

"Thank you. I know, I mean, this in no way could be true, but really, thank you. I'm sorry I lost it earlier. I was...I wanted to protect you," Santana said, eyes closed, but her tears were running down her eyes.

"What happened? I didn't see anything earlier," Brittany

"Wha...what do you mean?" Santana asked, clearly confused at the blonde's answer.

"I did not see anything, Santana. Nothing had happened. We were just in the park, we took a walk in the woods, and came home," Brittany stated.

There was silence as Santana sat there, dwelling in the thought.

"Thank you, Brittany," Santana said finally, after a couple of minutes.

"You're welcome, San," the blonde smiled, and then looked up to the city beyond.

"Come," Santana stood up, and went towards the window. "Let's get some fresh air."

"Where are we going?" Brittany asked.

"Just, around, seeing sights," Santana smiled softly.

_It was a smile that made the unicorns in Brittany's stomach jump around._

"Well," Brittany smiled. "How do I-"

"Climb behind my back. I'm strong enough to carry you, if you'd want to know," the Latina grinned.

"Okay," Brittany climbed behind Santana, in a piggyback ride. Santana jumped a couple of buildings down, and went to another block, the structures a blur to Brittany's eyes. That meant they are travelling at an epically great speed.

They reached a certain building where it was overlooking the Big Apple in all it's glory. And there Santana and Brittay took a seat on the rooftop, watching the city lights.

"I know what you're going to say," Santana smiled. "It's beautiful."

Brittany chuckled. "Yeah, it's beautiful."

Santana smiled and let out a soft laugh.

"And I think you're beautiful, too," Brittany looked at her.

"You do?" Santana tried to sound amused.

"Yeah, I do," Brittany said.

"You're crazy, Brittany."

"I'm not. Seriously," she smiled at Santana.

_Maybe crazily attracted to you, perhaps. _Brittany said in the back of her mind.

"Well, thank you," Santana said.

"Nahh, I only told you, Santana," Brittany looked far across New York. Suddenly, she noticed that Santana had been watching her silently. "Why are you staring at me?"

"I...I was just trying to figure you out," Santana said bashfully, after being caught by the blonde.

"Mhm...okay," Brittany smiled. "How about we just skip the whole, figure out each other part and get on with the knowing each other part?"

"Sure," Santana smiled as she looked beyond the city. "Should I start or you?"

"You, is it okay?"

"Okay, I'm Santana Lopez..." Santana said, looking into the blonde's eyes.

And through the night, under the crappy lighting of the single lamp in the rooftop, and under the pale light of the moon, two silhouettes stood out across the sky, sharing thoughts, bonding souls.


	17. Chapter 17

The morning sun chased the sleep away from Brittany's eyes as she tried to cover her eyes away from the blazing sunshine. Santana loomed above her and hovered on top of Brittany.

"Sorry, I forgot to pull the blinds down," Santana apologized.

"I didn't remember us...coming home," Brittany said.

"That only means one thing," Santana smiled back as she sat on the bed.

"Thank you...for carrying me home," Brittany gave a shy smile. The mere thought of Santana carrying her, piggyback or not, was enough to make the unicorns in her stomach run around like maniacs all over again.

"Nahh," Santana leaned back. "It's nothing. I mean, you know me, right."

"Right," Brittany grinned smartly. "Your strength could come in a handy."

"Thank you, Brittany. I've never really had someone...who knew me, and well, wasn't scared of me. I mean, Mami, I knew she was scared, but she tried to hide it for me."

"Santana, we've been through this, before, right? We've talked about this. You're not anything, just a person, just another human being, okay?"

"Yeah...right," Santana answered. Then she settled in for the silence.

But to Brittany, it wasn't the awkward and scary silence that she had dreaded. It was a comfortable sort of silence.

"Breakfast?" Santana said as she broke the silence between them.

"Sure, I'm starving," Brittany smiled as she instantly swung her legs out of the bed. "What are we having?"

"Some pancakes, smoothie, a couple of greens, fruits and coffee," Santana answered.

"Wow, classy," Brittany mumbled as they rummaged through the kitchen. The room was airy, and it was pretty orderly and clean, and so is the living room.

"Dig in," Santana put a plate full of food in front of Brittany. "Then I'll drive...or walk you home, or whatever, you know."

"Mhm...okay," Brittany started eating, and the moment her first taste go into her, she couldn't help but appreciate Santana's skill in culinary arts.

"You could have been a gourmet chef or something..." Brittany smiled.

"You've got to be kidding me," Santana smiled.

"No, I'm not. I'm not joking around, San. You really cook yummy food."

They ate through breakfast, and then drove home to Brittany's apartment.

"Don't you want to get in, Santana?" Brittany stepped aside the door to let the brunette in.

"No, I'm...I am cool here, anyways, I have to go too, so...ummm...good bye, Britt," the brunette hastened to leave the room, leaving Brittany face-flat into the door. The blonde had nothing to do, but head to her room.

"Who was that, Britt?" Quinn was leaning on the doorframe.

"It's Santana," Brittany answered, not really wanting to spill out the whole previous evening.

"Mhm…so, are you…kind of…you know?"

"No. I'm not even gay, Quinn. And Santana isn't gay."

"Really? I've seen you check her out," Quinn reasoned.

"I…I was…I was just appreciating," Brittany shot back.

"Oh yeah?"

"Hell, yeah! Now get the hell out of my private place! I need some sleep. And don't you ruin my Saturday," she said, not really wanting to slip and tell Quinn what had happened.

"Okay? But do I get the remaining bacons?" Quinn quirked a brow.

"Okay, now leave me alone and lock the door. Leave," Brittany said, drawing the blanket over her head.

Quinn, after getting the message that she can't be able to get anything to the other blonde, plodded towards the kitchen to cure her nagging headache from her party last night. She helped herself to some breakfast as she tried to listen to Brittany.

Meanwhile, in her bedroom, Brittany was furiously texting her phone away.

_Hi. Have a gud day. Xx –B._

Her phone buzzed and there was an answer.

_Go to sleep. :) –S._

_U too. Hang out here 2nyt? –B._

_We'll see. –S._

She put her phone above her bedside table and tried to sleep.

Brittany woke up a few hours later and she went with Quinn for some shopping and the blonde had been nagging her so much about what had happened between her and Santana the previous night that on the umpteenth time that Quinn had asked about it, Brittany sat her bags down.

"Okay, Quinn, nothing happened, okay? And I am not going to let anything happen, now shut up!" she groaned.

"Well, one day, something would actually happen then."_  
_

"Shut up!" Brittany mocked. "Get your big nose out of my damn business."

"Okee," Quinn gave out an eye-roll. "Okeee…"

Suddenly, before Brittany could answer, her phone vibrated.

_Meet me at your rooftop, tonight. –S._

Brittany can't help but force a smile to herself, making her look like an idiot. Quinn did not miss it, but maybe for some ways or another, the other blonde was keeping herself quiet. Also, Santana was also typing the words in whole, making Brittany feel rather, flattered.

"Quinn, I'm going to go out, tonight," Brittany stated as calmly as she could, hoping that she can't make the other blonde put her gear on and ask to tag along.

"Okay," Quinn stated blankly, clearly waiting to be offered with an invitation to come with her roommate.

"Okay, thanks," Brittany gave out a smile.

_That's not going to work today, Fabray. Certainly, not today._

The day ended, and night came. Brittany slipped her hoodie on and walked casually to the hallway, and then she turned for the lift and pushed the button to the highest floor. After reaching the highest floor, she then moved to trudge the service stairway to the rooftop, and she wasn't surprised that a waiting Latina was there, standing.

"Hi," she muttered under a shaky breath, since it was a very cold night.

"Hi," Santana smiled, her teeth also chattering from the cold. "You could?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Brittany let out a shaky laugh and grinned at Santana.

"Well," Santana just smiled. "I'm glad you came. You want some pizza? I brought some." Santana then drew a box of pizza.

"Wow, that's so thoughtful," Brittany smiled as they both sat down for pizza on the ledge. Santana also popped two cans of soda and the brunette even managed to bring disposable table napkins.

_Impressive._ Brittany thought.

They sat down and gobbled up the pizza. Between bites and chomps, light conversation flowed.

And that's how it began as an insane routine. Santana would come every Saturday and spend the evening munching their favourite pizzas together on the rooftop of Brittany's building. It went on for weeks, until Santana sent a text in the middle of Brittany's Chemistry class that Friday morning.

_Hang out at my place tonight? Don't bring dinner. I'm making a special one. –S._

It took Brittany just a second to read the text. And another second to reread it. Then it took Brittany half a second to reply.

_Looking forward to it. xx –B._


	18. Chapter 18

Brittany looked at the door and instantly, her mind battled if she should knock or let herself in. However, her pro-let-yourself-in side won, so she carefully turned the knob and went inside.

Santana was in the kitchen, leaning carefully on what seemed to be some sort of pasta cooking by the stove. Brittany cleared her throat, evidently making the Latina snap her head back towards the blonde's direction.

"Oh, you're here," she smiled. "Glad you let yourself in."

Brittany roamed her eyes around the apartment, taking in the new ambience of the room. The blinds were of chocolate and cream colour scheme, and the couches were cream-coloured, and minimally themed. She can't help but notice the clean kitchen, especially the clean kitchen.

"San, did you get some cleaning or what?" she asked as she sat on the breakfast nook.

The Latina's features clouded slightly, and then she broke into a grin. "Nahh, I just cleaned up a few days ago. It took me hours. I just can't invite you here seeing my place like it some sort of dumping site for some shit."

Brittany smiled slightly. The Latina had made an effort for her.

"Wow," she mused laughingly.

"Wow, what? And what's that face?" Santana shot back.

"Nothing, it's just that I have already seen your messy room," Brittany smiled as she answered.

"Well, at least, I never wanted that to happen, right?" There was a beep from the microwave oven that cut Santana short. "Oh, dinner's ready."

Santana poured two plates of pasta and topped it with parsley and white sauce, then she pulled out a plastic box that contained lasagne and plopped it on the table.

"Dig in?" Santana said.

"Sure, umm…I brought, I brought some sodas, want to pop them or for later?"

"I don't know, Britt. You really shouldn't have bothered," Santana said as she was munching between mouthfuls of pasta and lasagne.

"No, I insist," Brittany smiled.

"Okay, how about pop one for me, if you really insist," Santana smiled as she saw the blonde opening a can of Coke and handed it to the Latina. The Latina smiled her thanks.

Dinner went on casually, with them talking about school and all the things they've done.

"So I was in my Chemistry class dying of boredom…" Brittany grinned as she spoke.

Santana huffed and looked at Brittany. "I hate Chemistry."

"You find it difficult?" Brittany quirked a brow.

"No. It's just that it gets me bored. I mean, I don't really like school, you know," Santana smiled half-heartedly, looking at Brittany with her head tilted sideward. "There are not really much of the things I like."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, I guess I was just kind of getting used to it, you know," Santana shrugged.

"Mhm. What are the things you really like, Santana Lopez?" Brittany asked, emphasizing air quotes around the word "like".

"Well, I'm certain, I like these things. Like when I get to spend time with you, Brittany. I like it very much. I like music too, and a few dabbles on the computer, but after that, not that much."

"I love music too," Brittany smiled. "I was part of the Glee Club back in my high school days."

"Impressive. By the way, how was Quinn?" Santana asked, wanting so badly to know about Brittany's state of friends.

"She's going steady with this Puckerman guy from Queens. I haven't met him that much, though. What are we going to do tonight, Sanny?" Brittany asked with an innocent tone. She sounded like a two-year old wanting to have a lollipop.

"Watch movies, play Call of Duty. Anything you have in mind?" Santana asked as she started to keep their food.

"No, let me help," Brittany clambered to her feet. However, Santana shushed her and she was forced to sit on the living room, sorting out DVDs they might want to watch later.

A gaping doorway just adjacent to the hallway that led to Santana's room had caught the blonde's attention and she stood up, and walked towards it. She drew a deep breath before pushing the door wider. And what caught her eyes was a piano.

It was compelling. It was drawing her nearer and nearer to the instrument. Brittany walked up to the instrument and sat in front of it, pressing a key once. And another. And then another.

"Do you play?" Santana asked from the doorway.

Brittany looked up to the brunette and blushed, thanks to the poor lighting of the room, it wasn't obvious.

"Do you play?" the questioned was echoed by Brittany's own mouth.

"A little," Santana smiled as she sat beside Brittany. "Do you want me to teach you?"

"Sure," Brittany smiled and tried to make room for Santana.

"Okay," Santana breathed out once she took a seat. "This is the key of C. Don't try to stiffen your palms, and you shouldn't push too hard, okay?"

"Okay," Brittany wasn't really paying attention at Santana's fingers. Her eyes weren't looking at the keys either.

They were looking at a certain brunette.

Santana started to play a song, it was mellow, flowing and somehow, it scared Brittany so much because the song gave her feels.

"What song is that?" Brittany asked, looking at the Latina.

"It's called River Flows," Santana answered without even looking up, her hands still busy with the keys. And then, the last note was played.

"Can you play it again for me?" Brittany pouted as she pleaded for Santana to play the song again.

"No," Santana said flatly.

"Yes," Brittany pouted.

"Nope, I won't."

"Yes, you will," Brittany pouted more and gave her sad puppy eyes.

"Awh, Britt, okay! Here I go," Santana started to play again for Brittany.

When the song was over, Brittany begged to stay, in spite of Santana's protests that they should pop in some DVDs to watch. And the blonde won over the argument, staying with Santana's piano for a few more hours.

This also translates to Santana staying with Brittany and teaching her piano for a few more hours.

"Don't stiffen your fingers. Just let it flow, here, give me your hand," Santana took the blonde's hand and placed it all in the right keys, but Brittany's fingers were trembling.

They were holding hands together.

Even if it was an indirect one.

"Here, press lightly," Santana continued on teaching. "Right, right, that one."

The blonde and the brunette sat in front of the piano, head bent and focused on the piano mastery, yet their minds were also set apart. Brittany was only thinking of the softness, the security that Santana's hand had provided for her.

And Santana was none different. As she held Brittany's hands, all that she could ever think of was how warm and caring and gentle the blonde's touch was.


	19. Chapter 19

Brittany ran up the steps to the large, brownstone building, her tote bag flailing behind her as she hastily went through the revolving doors. She greeted the doorman with a mumbled "good afternoon" and flashed the old man a smug smile before she quickly turned left towards the dance studio.

Brittany teaches dancing during her free time from the university. Whilst this provides money for her, she further appreciated the fact that she could dance her tensions away. Whenever she felt too frustrated about school work or her academics, Brittany always comes running to this old brownstone building a block away from her place.

She entered the spacious room and found that Trudy Champs, her fifteen-year old student was waiting for her.

"Hey Tru, you're early," Brittany smiled as she flopped her tote bag on a chair and sat beside Trudy. They have five more minutes before their usual call time.

"You're just late, Miss Pierce. What are we going to learn today?" Trudy asked from the floor where she was squatting.

"Ballet basics, stuff…" Brittany paused as she let out a grunt as she was pulling on her dancing shoes.

"Nice one, Miss Pierce," Trudy mumbled, her eyes glued to the other student that came into the room. "Mara's here."

"I know."

Pretty soon, after five minutes, the room was filled with some teenagers bending over, reaching to their toes, stretching, getting ready for the routines. As usual, Brittany was always caring and everything supportive to all her students.

"No, don't shift your weight that much, dear," Brittany bends over a young blonde girl of thirteen. "Here, look at me, lift your feet slowly, while transferring all your weight on your left one, okay?"

The little girl tried and failed, landing on her butt on the floor. Another blonde came over and helped the girl up, with Brittany assisting them both.

"Now, let's try that again, Ellie," Brittany declared.

"Okay," the little girl scrunched her nose in concentration as she put her weight slowly on her left foot.

"That's good, Ellie. Now I'll have to leave you for a while, so practice that routine, okay? You're doing really well, but I have Anna to help out," Brittany said as she moved to a young brunette at the age of twelve trying to do yet another routine.

And so the day wore on, with Brittany teaching the children and the children doing trying all their best to perfect each routine. The afternoon waned on and the classes were over. Brittany quickly packed up her things and went out of the brownstone building and headed home.

"Hey, Britt!" someone from behind her called.

"San!" she smiled as she turned back and saw the brunette.

_Well, what are the chances of running into Santana? Maybe it was just really her lucky day._

"Hi," Santana huffed as she caught up with the blonde.

"Hi, how are you?" Santana smiled and wiped the film of sweat on her forehead.

"Isn't it a nice and warm and balmy weather, eh?" Brittany said in a phony British accent.

"Sure it is, mate," Santana retorted with a smirk a British accent.

This made the two girls burst into a laughing fit. Then, they realized they had been standing in the sidewalk for far too long and they broke into another fit of laughter again.

"Coffee?" Santana quirked a brow as she looked at the blonde, who in turn, smiled at her.

"Would be pleased to," Brittany answered in a phony British accent again.

Santana quickly took Brittany's hand and started walking. "I know a place."

They ducked their way through the sea of people and they came upon a small alley. Brittany hesitated at first, but the smile on Santana's face was very confident and trusting that Brittany went on.

They came upon a door and Santana pushed it open. What met Brittany was the aroma of freshly baked bread and coffee and vanilla and chocolate swirled altogether.

"Wow," Brittany breathed in.

"Yeah, I know," Santana smiled.

"How come it's so hidden?" Brittany asked.

"They do deliveries, sort of those things," Santana explained. "A few people would get to come here. Just those who really knew this place, you know. My Dad and I usually went out here when I was younger."

"Wow, so it's like…it's part of your life, or something," Brittany mumbled as they found a seat by the back of the room. The lighting was low, yet it was enough and mellow. The lamps threw various shades of orange and red and the paintings were of nature and sunsets, and it had captured the attention of the blonde.

A waiter came upon them and smiled at Santana, and then he took the orders and went away. A few minutes later, he came back with two cups of coffee and a bag of freshly baked muffins.

They shared their muffins and they just had the usual conversations, just like the ones they had shared.

"So, where were you, going or…something?" Brittany asked.

"I bought a…something for my computer, you know…" Santana said as she eyed the whole room. Suddenly her face clouded when they heard their thoughts.

_Probably one of them is a slut._

_Or a lesbo._

_That's gross._

_Money…_

_Kill him, you twat._

_Family Guy…_

Brittany took it as a wrong thing. The blonde then cleared her throat. "Umm…I'm really sorry, I should…well, should I go?"

Santana, after realizing that she had morphed into her haze-filled trance, snapped her attention back to Brittany.

"No…no…you did not say anything wrong!" Santana said and the panic was evident in her voice. She looked at Brittany with pleading eyes.

"San, are you okay?" Brittany asked, concern lacing in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine…what about you? It wasn't you, Britt…gosh, I really didn't mean to disappoint you, I mean…" Santana was talking so fast.

"Stop, Santana! You're rambling, dear."

"Okay, well…" Santana said, oblivious that for a fact, if she says something wrong, this might be the end of their friendship.

"Well, tell me what happened," Brittany mustered a small smile.

"I can read thoughts… and personalities…sort of, do those…" Santana admitted bashfully and suddenly, her coffee cup became the most interesting thing in the room.

"You mean…like you know what I'm thinking right now?" Brittany deadpanned. Well, what a shame if Santana already knew she liked her too? Oops.

"Most people. Because…" Santana took a deep breath. "I can't read what you're thinking."

_Brittany silently cursed the air. Why does she have to be so unlucky? Here she is, wanting this woman in front of her and she could have been saved from all the hassle and self-nervousness, but couldn't happen now._

"Okay, tell me what they think," Brittany bemused.

"Okay, those two girls, they're drooling at us. They're lesbians. That guy with the big mug, money and gamble tonight at the Lotus Casino. That fat man, money and sex…and cat?" Santana squirmed.

Brittany just chuckled. "What?"

"Cat…" Santana half-whispered.

"Cat?" Brittany laughed. "Oh my."

"Come on, let's get out of here, that guy was kind of getting angry the person next to him and they might fight. Let's get out," Santana suggested as she stood up, leaving Brittany no choice but to follow.

"I'll walk you home, okay? Besides, my place is just a few blocks away from you and it's in walking distance," Santana said once they got out.

"I like their coffee…San," Brittany tentatively started the conversation on their way home.

"Me too," Santana took a sip from her cup.

"Since when did it started? Your mind-readings…"

"I don't it's really mind-reading. I mean, I am no mind-reader or something. Maybe it's just me and my unstable state, you know…" Santana said.

"Maybe, though…" Brittany mumbled and took Santana's hand. "Well, since you can't read me…well, just remember I will be your friend and this revelation hadn't changed anything between us."

The mere mention of 'us' instantly made Santana blush, and thanks to the lighting, it wasn't that seen by the blonde. She just mumbled thanks to the blonde before stopping in front of the building where Brittany stayed.

"Well, I've got to go now, Britt," Santana smiled. Brittany started climbing up the stairs and Santana was also heading to the sidewalk.

"Yeah…umm, San…" Brittany said, half-yelling it so the brunette could hear her.

"Yeah, Britt?"

"Thanks!" she flashed a megawatt-smile to Santana.

"Yeah, sure. "

"Umm…San…" Brittany said, and then stopped short. Maybe this isn't a great idea.

"Yeah?"

"See you around, then. Bye…"

"Bye…"

Brittany hurried up the steps and went inside the building. She let out the overly huge breath she hadn't realized she had been holding and mentally kicked herself for being such a chicken in asking Santana Lopez out.

Brittany looked at the elevator light and cursed at herself.

_Why?_

The reason was as clear as crystal to her.

_Sam Evans._


	20. Chapter 20

Brittany was starting to keep her things that night and was bending over when she saw a shadow fall upon her front. When she stood back straight up, she was met by Santana's brown eyes.

"Hi," she smiled.

"Hi, Britt. Nice job, eh..." Santana let her eyes wander across the room.

"Yeah…" Brittany smiled. "I work here, part-time, though. I've got college education, you know."

"I know, right," Santana smiled.

"So, what brought you here…and more importantly, how did you get in here?"

"Well, what brought me here, was you. And I got in here not using the front door where the doorman sits and guards it," Santana answered coolly.

"Smart answer, Lopez. What do you want?"

"Nothing. I just feel sad," Santana said as she looked away.

A short 'oh' from the blonde's mouth and she sat Santana on a chair. Pulling another one from somewhere else and sitting on the other chair, she faced Santana.

"Okay, spill."

"I missed you, best friend," Santana confessed.

Brittany wished to high heavens that there shouldn't be a 'best friend' but a 'babe' chucked in the conversation. But, instead, Brittany cleared her throat and smiled at Santana.

"Well, come," she motioned for Santana to stand up, which the brunette quickly complied. "Hold on to me."

Santana obeyed Brittany. Pretty soon they were facing each other, and Santana looked shyly at a beaming Brittany.

"Want to dance?" Brittany asked with enthusiasm.

"I…" Santana stammered. "I don't know how to dance…"

"Come on. Just trust me, okay?" Brittany said confidently and smiled at Santana for an added measure.

"Okay," Santana breathed as she heard music play from Brittany's phone.

"I recorded your piano piece, you know. Is…it…okay? I mean, are you okay with it?" Brittany rambled as they danced.

"Yeah…well, yeah, it's fine," Santana said, her feet started to follow Brittany's steps. Step…close…step…to the tune of the piano. It wasn't clearly recorded, unlike HD audios, but the music could be heard, in the least.

Santana and Brittany soon danced in the room as if they were just the only ones in the whole world. They danced, as if it was their last. Santana poured everything that she felt for Brittany that moment.

"You're a good dancer…" Santana said, suddenly her lips was turning bone dry.

"You're not bad yourself, too. Maybe you ought to be dancing a lot more. Come here more often?" Brittany proposed.

"I…maybe," Santana shrugged.

Brittany wished for the song to just keep on playing, but like all other songs, and like all other beautiful things, it ended so soon.

Brittany pulled Santana close to her, way too closer than ought to be and paused, their chests heaving for air.

"Wow," Brittany breathed.

"Wow…" Santana smiled softly and wiped a few stray locks of her raven-coloured hair.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes and just sat beside each other. Santana liked the silence, and surprisingly, the dark, constricting feeling that usually gets to her on times when there is silence like what she had been right now wasn't lurking at all.

Suddenly, all that she could feel was the blonde's hand on her own. It was like Santana's head suddenly grew light and she was floating on mid-air.

"Thanks…" Brittany smiled as she looked intently at Santana's brown eyes, and they have captivated her.

"Thanks, too…" Santana smiled back, conveying everything she had wanted to say using her eyes, channelling all that she had felt for the blonde into the stare.

The moments slowed down, and all Santana could hear was the ringing in her ear and Brittany leaned in to kiss Santana, but Santana pulled away.

"I…I think, I…I think we should get going…" Santana mumbled, her head tilted away and Brittany sighed.

"I'm…I'm sorry," Brittany deadpanned and quickly grabbed her bag from the floor and walked ahead towards the door. She felt rejected, she felt as if Santana did not want her.

But Santana needn't have to see it.

"Brittany, wait!" Santana called the blonde.

"Yeah?" Brittany's heart seemed to leap out of her chest.

"Can…Can we grab a slice of pizza…together?" Santana asked, her voice hopeful.

"Sure," the answer was short and stoic and Santana knew that Brittany was royally pissed off at her.

"I'm really sorry, Brittany," Santana sighed. "I'm…just…I'm just not ready for it, right now."

"I know," Brittany sighed sadly. "I'm sorry. And I won't push you again," she added with resentment.

"Are we still cool?" Santana asked.

"Course we are," Brittany's lips curved into a smile.

"Thanks," Santana said as they came into the pizza store.

"No problem, San." Brittany took Santana's hand and went inside.

They ordered, took the pizzas out and went to Brittany's apartment. Quinn wasn't there, as usual and Santana was glad Quinn wasn't there at all. Brittany rummaged through the fridge for a drink and she brought two soda cans back with her to the living room. She handed one to Santana and sat beside the brunette.

"You okay?" Santana asked.

"Yeah," Brittany answered all too soon. Santana just quirked an eyebrow at the blonde, as if telling Brittany 'yeah right'.

"Well, I'm really fine, you know. I just…I just," Brittany sighed.

_I love you and you did not let me kiss you, do you think I am okay with it?_

"I know," Santana said patiently. "Just give me some time. And Sam…what about him?"

"Yeah, maybe I should. But, let's just say Sam was great and all…it's just that I can't see him with me five years from now."

"He's perfect for you, and me…I'm never enough for anyone," Santana said, her pizza slice long been put aside.

"Hey, baby…" Brittany tilted Santana's head and cupped the shorter girl's chin. "You're so beautiful. You're imperfect, but a little imperfection could make you the most beautiful individual in this world…" suddenly, Brittany felt that words aren't enough, and she leaned in to kiss Santana.

And Santana Lopez did not pull away this time.

The kiss wasn't torrid, nor was it needy. It was just…perfect. Words can't fully describe it. It was slow, soft, gentle, caressing, and trustworthy. They did not even dare to do more than kiss each other.

It was full of love and that kiss has triggered something inside Brittany. She knows what kind of trouble she's going in. And she also knew that having a relationship with Santana was the least safe for her.

But she wouldn't care.

Suddenly, there was an annoying knock on the door and it was Santana who stood up first.

"Let me," Santana smiled before kissing Brittany's lips one last time and went to the door.

She opened it, and she almost wanted to puke right then and there as her eyes popped out of her head.

"Hi, is Brittany in?" Sam Evans' voice cut through Santana's storming mind. He was holding a bouquet of roses in his right hand and a bottle of champagne was tucked under his right arm, and he was holding what seemed to be a velvet box on his left palm.

She looked past into Sam's gaze and caught a glimpse of the person standing behind Sam. She had seen that man a few times back, on Brittany's photographs and frames.

It was Brittany's father.


	21. Chapter 21

Santana looked at Sam, then back to Mr. Pierce and wondered if she should let them in.

_Of course, she had to. This is not her house._

Brittany was wearing the same face as Santana's shocked one when Sam walked in the room with her father.

"Hi, Britt…" Sam wore a smile that seemed to break his face in half. The velvet box was nowhere to be seen, and he strutted across the room like some proud pony.

"Hi, Sam. Hi Dad," suddenly, Brittany's voice felt so small, her lips were parched and she can't' help but fidget on the hem of her shirt.

"How are you doing?" Edward asked.

"So-so," Brittany said back, yet she was practically watching Santana's reactions. She couldn't find anything in her face, there wasn't even a single trace of emotion etched in there.

"Britt, I'll be going, I'll see you later," Santana said, her voice flat and somehow, Brittany sensed that it's constricted, like Santana was having this mental and emotional storm inside her again.

Sam was making himself comfortable and taking in the room at a glance and he sat on the couch.

The closing of the door signalled that Santana had hurriedly left the room.

And Brittany stood there, caught up between her father's stare and Sam's expectant eyes. Suddenly, she felt as if she had no choice.

She sprinted to the door, and down the stairs to the sidewalks.

The cold wind whipped Santana's face as her tears fell on the sidewalk. She stormed into the dark, but before she could even reach the threshold, a high-pitched voice travelled to reach her ears.

"Santana! Santana, wait! Are you okay? What the hell, you can't bail out on me like that," Brittany called out.

Santana hurriedly hid her form into the dark shadows of the night and held her breath, her lungs constricting as if she have to breath, Brittany would find her.

She watched the blonde girl hang her head dejectedly, after realizing that Santana was nowhere to be found. She slowly took small steps along the sidewalk. Her crest fell and heaved drastically and her shoulders sagging, Brittany went inside her building.

Santana watched the blonde's room from afar, wanting to know, yet dreading that she would know. She saw Sam get down on one knee, and then on second thoughts, Santana looked away and turned her heels hurriedly, and the next thing she knew was she was running to the dark, again.

Santana sat on the lonely bench where she first saw Brittany. She just sat there, and cried. There was nothing more she could do. And she can't even understand why she had let herself be hurt again.

She curled herself into the bench and made an effort to just forget everything else.

It must have been a few hours more when she realized what was happening. She was soaking wet from the icy rain and she was shivering terribly. But she did not make any effort to stand up or do anything.

Everything just hurt.

There was nothing that she could even think of doing. Santana just wanted to die and she just hoped that all these were just a bad dream and that at some point she would wake up and see that her mother was leaning over her, bringing forth a muffin for her breakfast.

But the pain was all too real.

She had lost again. She had lost to the dark again.

She needed an escape.

Santana walked to the Chrysler Building and took the elevators up to the sixty-first floor, and she stood on the edge before looking down through the wires that held people back.

That was it. She looked down and she knew what she had to do. Santana breathed hard, and then looked from her left. And then she looked to her right. No one was watching. She checked her wrist watch and found that it was already almost two in the morning.

She wondered where time had flown so quickly. But since it wasn't her concern, she quickly lifted her legs and stood atop the nape of the eagle's neck. The cold wind whipped her face, making her falter a little. It is freezing, and her clothes were drenching her. She looked down and wondered if Brittany would even care about her.

She won't. Brittany would never care about her.

Santana couldn't get any wrong.

Brittany was roaming the city streets that night. She was looking frantically for a young brunette and was desperately asking every cop car if ever they had seen a Latina.

Brittany went to Santana's apartment, hoping that she would find her. But when she got there, there was no avail.

"Quinn… I need you to help me find Santana…" Brittany said through the phone as she looked out through the dirty window of the coffee house. It was far from being okay, and she needed to get to Santana as fast as possible.

Or before she could even put her hand on someone else innocent.

If there ever was someone who would turn up dead and torn apart by tomorrow, Brittany's sure that she would be presenting herself in the nearest police station after ten minutes of hearing about it.

Because she knew that it would be Santana who had done it and it was her fault why Santana did it.

The rain dripped on the windows as Brittany watched the cars pull up and pull away from the curb and speed down to 42nd Avenue. It was almost two in the morning, she's tired, she's stressed, she's worried but most of all, she hated herself for letting Santana walk out on her like that. She knew it was her fault, and Sam's too. And her Dad's.

Oh, whatever.

Her eyes travelled up and up to the eagles of Chrysler Building and suddenly, she felt a tug at her heart. She doesn't know why, but there was that urge for her to climb it.

It was kind of weird, so she just pushed it away to the back of her mind, and she tried to hail a cab from the street.


	22. Chapter 22

Santana looked at the blinking city lights below, and it was something worthwhile looking at. The whole of her New York view was fascinating, the raindrops dripping across the sides of the building, everything was beautiful. Santana had never seen such a thing as beautiful as it is ever.

She stepped further into the eagle's head, her feet just merely inches away from the edge. The concrete she was stepping on was slippery because of the rain. Her heart thundered across her chest and she knew she had to jump, sooner or later.

Santana opted to jump at that very moment.

Brittany was riding on the car and she was ready to give up. She wanted to go home, she really wanted it to. She came to her apartment and she saw her father waiting out for her, his lips pulled into a real thin line. His face was unreadable, like he was thinking about something so hard. It was like he did not even see Brittany walk in.

"Tell me, Brittany, why?" her father asked in a monotone.

"I can't, Dad. I'm sorry," Brittany said.

"You can't?" her father asked again. "Tell me, why can't you?"

There was an existing minute of silence as they both engaged into a staring contest.

"I can't marry Sam," she said finally, breaking away from her father's stare.

"Why? I thought you were forever," her father said sadly.

"Because…Dad," Brittany said.

"Because?"

"Britt!" Quinn Fabray shot through the door, startling Brittany's father for a few seconds.

And then Edward Pierce went back to his straight, emotionless, poker face.

"No," Brittany answered back and signalled Quinn to shut up and don't fuck things already.

But Quinn did fuck things up.

"I haven't seen Santana either! Oh my God, where the hell is she?" Quinn said with panic.

"Santana?" her father raised a brow. "Tell me, is that why you rushed out when Sam wanted to propose?"

Brittany could only nod her head. Then, she chanced to look at her father's eyes. "Dad, I have something to tell you."

Edward looked at her with an expectant look.

"I'm gay, Dad."

Brittany swore she could've died at the moment. She swore she could have just vanished into thin air in front of her father. But she had to face her father's intimidating stare.

"Brittany," her father said softly. "You're not…"

"Dad, I am gay!" she yelled. "I am and I am in love with someone else."

"Is it, is it that young brunette here earlier?" her father asked warily, as if he was alienated by his own daughter.

Brittany just nodded. Then she added a soft, "yeah, Dad. She is."

"You're not my daughter," her father said, finally. And then Brittany heard him leave, slamming the door as he went outside.

Brittany crumbled down on the couch and Quinn rushed to the taller blonde's side.

"Hey, I'm here," Quinn said. "I'm right here, baby…"

"Quinn…" Brittany said as she sharply drew in a deep breath. "Quinn…he…he just…walked…out on…his own…no…he walked….ou-ou-out on…me," she said as her words were indented by the spasms of her crying.

"Shh…it's alright," Quinn said. "I'm here, Santana would be here, too…"

"No, Quinn…she'll be hurting too. Quinn…" she paused. "She thought I am going to marry Sam."

"Oh my God," Quinn exclaimed.

"I know…I ran after her, but I wasn't able to find her. I don't know where she is right now, maybe in Battery Park, or in Empire State, or…or in…in…Chrysler," Brittany stopped her trail of thought.

"What?" Quinn stared at her, looking confused.

"She's in Chrysler Tower!" Brittany exclaimed. "I have to go to Chrysler Tower."

"No, Brittany. It's almost three in the morning, and Chrysler is closed at this time. You'd never expect one to be in Chrysler Tower…"

"No, Quinn. Santana doesn't take the front door and she doesn't take the lifts," Brittany said as she put her coat on.

"It's raining cats and dogs," Quinn complained, trying to reason out with Brittany's stubborn attitude.

But her warnings fell on deaf ears as the blonde was running for the door and on the hallway.

Brittany reached the sidewalk in record time stood directly under the rain to hail a cab. A cab came her way and let her in.

"Take me to Chrysler," she said to the driver.

"Chrysler?" the driver asked again.

"Do I have to tell you twice?" Brittany snapped back.

"Okay," the driver started to drive.

During the ride, Brittany tried to remember what Santana had actually said about Chrysler. It was one of the rare times when they will just sit together on the rooftop's ledge on the top of the building where Brittany worked as a dance instructor.

"_See, the Chrysler is a very beautiful building," Santana said._

_Brittany just nodded._

"_And it had these crown-like designs," Santana elaborated using her hands._

"_Wow, that was breath-taking," Brittany mumbled._

"_Chrysler was my favourite building," Santana reasoned out. "It's one of the few places where I could sit down and just think about things and I don't feel as angry as I am, usually."_

"_Well, it's starting to become mine too," Brittany answered back._

However, when they were just a couple of blocks away from Chrysler, the traffic suddenly became heavy and they had to take a detour due to a motorbike accident.

"Can you take a shorter route?" Brittany asked impatiently and looked at the driver through the rear view mirror.

"Sorry, lady boss. Not allowed," the driver said as he started to circle the opposite block over Chrysler.

"No, this is my stop. Here," she gave the driver a fifty-dollar bill. "Keep the change."

She ran hurriedly through the rain. The streets were slick and slippery and her boots were never the best thing to wear on these times. But she went and prodded on.

She reached the doorman's post and shook herself out of the wetness.

"Hi, good…morning?" the doorman greeted.

"Hi, sir…" Brittany said out. "I need to get to the sixty-first floor, please."

The doorman let her get through and instantly, Brittany sprinted for the elevators. She heard the door slide shut, and all she had to do was wait.

With each passing neon light till coming to the sixty-first floor Brittany was so nervous. She stepped out of the elevator and walked to through the hallways, and out into the door.

There was no Santana.

She tried to round the whole building's perimeter and there, she saw her.

She was standing on one of the eagle heads, ready to fall.

Brittany watched as Santana was standing on the eagle head, and a lump suddenly rose on her throat. Brittany let out a strangled, throaty word. Just one word.

"Santana…"


	23. Chapter 23

Santana felt the cold wind whip over her face, making her shiver for a moment. And then she remembered. Brittany – she was the reason why she's here. She was the reason why she was in this unbelievable amount of pain.

She looked to the city below and she just had this crazy vision of herself, sprawled dead on the sidewalk.

Suddenly, as if from a dream, there was someone who was calling her name,

"Santana…"

At first, she thought it was her mother, telling her to stop doing what she was doing. So, she lowered her head and whispered into the air.

"Mami," she cried. "I'm sorry, I'm just so hurt…"

Lithe hands suddenly snaked behind her back and wrapped around Santana's waist.

"Santana, let's go home…" Brittany was whispering into her ear.

Brittany thought how she could let this woman go, how this perfect creature could feel so broken. It hurts her, but it hurt more, knowing that Santana's reason to be hurt was her.

"Go away," Santana said back, her tears free-flowing on her cheeks.

"I won't. I will stay here, until you come home with me," Brittany whispered, her tears were falling from her deep blue eyes.

"I won't go home with you."

"Then, I will stay here with you, Santana."

"I'm going to jump," Santana said.

"I'm going to jump if you jump," the grip on Santana's waist was getting tighter by the second. It was s strong and tight that Santana could feel the beating of Brittany's heart. She could hear it pounding, as well as her own.

"I don't want to lose you, Santana. You're everything to me. Please, I can't live without you," Brittany cried, burying her face on Santana's back.

"I…I need you, Santana. Please," Brittany said.

"Brittany," Santana wailed, choking in her own sobbing.

"Please…" Brittany begged. "Please, Santana. I love you, and you don't deserve all of these…I love you and you deserve to be with me."

"Why can't you just…go, Brittany?"

"I love you too much to let go," Brittany said. "Please, let's go home."

"Home?" Santana had been suddenly alienated at the word.

"Yes, home…where we will build our own family and we will have our own happiness, our own bundle of joy…" Brittany said, in hopes that she could convince Santana to go home.

"Brittany," Santana started.

"San…please, come with me…" Brittany begged.

Slowly, slowly, Santana looked up, and she tried to see through the hazes of darkness and grey. She felt the blonde's hands cup her own.

"Let's go home," Brittany said softly. It wasn't rushed. It was as if the blonde knew that Santana would go with her, sooner or later.

"Come on," she beckoned Santana to hold her hand and she walked, confidently along the eagle's head. They traversed across the safety net and they stood on the ledge.

"Santana," it was Brittany who said a word after their walk on the Chrysler's edge. The rain was soaking them wet to the skin, and it was definitely freezing.

"Santana," Brittany repeated as Santana started to walk angrily to the elevator doors. She ran to the brunette and tried to grab her hand.

"Santana!" she turned Santana around, and her hands held the Latina's face. She sealed it with a kiss.

After a few moments of struggle, Santana managed to inch herself away from Brittany, then she looked at the blonde with such mirth and anger.

"Why?" she thundered. "Why are you back to hurt me? Brittany, tell me, do you like to hurt me?" she said angrily.

"Santana…" Brittany said, drawing in a deep breath.

"Santana, I never wanted to hurt you. I would never ever want to hurt you," she said and looked into the dark swirls of black that were Santana's eyes.

"If I could stop the hurt you are feeling Santana, I would stop the hurt, I love you, and hurting you sucks," Brittany sobbed. "Hurting you is just like hurting me!"

"I never asked you to love me. I loved you, Brittany. And you wasted that love," Santana said.

"Santana, I would never, ever waste the love you had showered me. You know that. It's always us, it was always us, remember? I love you, please, just believe me. Please…" Brittany cried so hard, her shoulders shook, but she tried to look at Santana in the eye.

The darkness shrouding around Santana's eyes lifted and she saw Brittany's face clearly, for the first time. And it only took her a second before crumbling down.

"Britt…" she half-whispered, half-yelled frantically as she tried to wrap the blonde in her arms. She wistfully wiped the tears that came from Brittany's eyes.

"Santana, I love you," Brittany whispered, and without any other words, Brittany kissed Santana under the pouring rain, she was glad that Santana kissed her back after a few moments.

The Latina took her time before she realized that she was indeed kissing Brittany back.

"Let's go home?" Brittany asked.

"Okay," Santana held on Brittany's hands and they walked together to the lift. They hailed a cab and went into Brittany's place. It was almost four when they came in and both girls crashed on the bed after they got out of their wet, soaking clothes.

The sun shone brightly over Santana's head and she squirmed her eyes, hating the sunshine for doing it to her. She hated it, really, really hated it.

"Hello, stranger," a voice called at her and she instantly turned her head to the voice.

Quinn was sitting on Brittany's computer seat and was looking at her and Brittany, who was at the moment, sleeping soundly beside her.

Santana felt her head go light, and she started to struggle for an answer.

"You should have some tea. I wonder what you Lesbos did last night, but you and Brittany had both high temperatures and you're like radiating from the bed, so have some breakfast and tea. I'm guessing I have to role play Florence Nightingale today, thanks to the both of you," Quinn ranted.

Santana buried her face on the crook of Brittany's neck.

"Come on, Santana," Quinn pulled her to sit up and handed her a cup of tea and a paracetamol. "You see, Britt and I were friends and she would be like, you know, I'd like you to drink that stuff up and take the medicine if I were Brittany."

"What about her?" Santana croaked out as she looked at Brittany.

"Nah, she's fine. I'll feed her and let her take her med when she wakes up." Quinn said and she fed up Santana.

"Where were you last night, by the way?"

"Huh?" Santana asked.

"Where were you? Brittany was looking for you all night. She also called me to look for you. And apparently, you're so good at hiding because we haven't seen you, actually. And not to mention all you wet clothes. What are you drenched on, Lopez, huh? Sexual fluids?"

At that, Santana blushed. "No. We did not have a…an umbrella."

"Ah, an umbrella," Quinn smirked. "Okay."

Silence enveloped them both and Quinn looked up to her.

"She loves you so much, Santana."

Santana's eyes were met by Quinn's and they fell silent again. The silence was just indented by Brittany's soft snoring.

"I'm not trying to put you under pressure or threat you or anything, but Santana, she loves you so much and you are her whole world. I hope you'll not hurt her, because as far as I see it, I am pretty sure that you had her. Don't break her heart," Quinn smiled. "I have to do the laundry."

Santana watched Quinn walk to the door, but before Quinn's head could disappear from the hallway, she called her.

"Quinn," she called softly, hoping that Brittany wasn't waking up, yet.

"Yeah, San?"

"Thanks a lot. And I won't. I won't let myself hurt her. I love her so much too, that she was my whole life. She gave me the one thing I have lost long ago. And that was my heart. She's got it."

Quinn smiled and nodded, agreeing and Santana smiled back.

"Bye, both of you. Get well soon," Quinn closed the door softly, leaving Santana awake beside Brittany.

Or so she thought.

Brittany had her eyes closed, but she listened to every fibre of Santana's mini-speech about her. And when Santana curled up against her she sighed, thankful that Santana loves her back.

Santana sighed too, thankful to have Brittany beside her.

It's a new day, and one to look forward to. The days of night were over.


End file.
